Once upon a time
There once lived a swine.
He loved to travel.
Unraveling himself in solemn novel.
Along with a apple.
He'd often babble.
With a book won from raffle,
He'd stand bowleg and baffled.
He'd often tattle
Not meaning to ramble.
Standing bowleg and baffled.
His face a smooth red cackle.
The look on his face outdone.
The zipper on his pants came undone.
Far from the favorite son
Those whom seen would make fun.
Of a swine whom despised bacon kind.
Losing peace of mind.
He soon became unkind.
Confined by bacon kind.
He'd straighten a leather belt
Soon a hand seldom dealt.
Soon a bag of rind.
Some kind of stew, cordon bleu.
With much displeasure.
Read the obituary.
And to think its almost February

Behind our doors
there is speak
of an underworld
where instead of Hades

lives the politicians,
but they are worst than the devil
because these folks were never
fallen angels.

governmental deities
whose sole goal is power
or the enjoyablility of having
not to answer any tough questions.

We pay them
not to find the fine line
or to do the correct thing
for our country--
instead corporations corrupt them
to hide their skeletons
behind closed doors.

How can we expect
them to provide for us
when their true investment is held in money
capitalism--
a form of life-sized monopoly
trying to collect all the paper bills.

One where you don't do drugs,
where you don't smoke.
honestly--
do not drink the trough of lesser things
amongst them the layers of thievery.

Where man and woman do not thrive
addiction steals their will,
as it drives their minds into space
where life is void of options;
other than we need to get high.

Voiceless and numb, sprawled against the wall--
I do not have to think of anything
except the pleasure that expunges all my needs--
no bills, no children, no desires
free of everything.

It became my passion,
because they told me to live happily--
ecstasy was within my grasp
it only took a needle
to find the hidden path,
that's always been within my veins.

Confused by my mother--
whom will not speak my name
and by society that cast me to the streets;
thought I did what they told me to do.

White eyed and foaming--
a final image appears in the mind
my last coherent thought
*How is this any worse?