My birthday is coming this very week.
It's probably why i seem such a freak.
In spite of my taking great quantities of drug;
It's still not so easy being a light-hearted Doug.
To scam my way through my life in New York.
To produce and direct this Wednesday's PORK.
To constantly be cleaning my ******* bedroom.
It's just too much to add to this winter's gloom.
And to top it all off, I can't believe that it's true
But somehow this week I'll turn Forty-Two!
****!  How's it add up?  ****!  How can I win?
I guess I could say, "I'm twenty-one!  Again."
I mean in a nightclub bathed by red light
Not even my corpse would look much a fright.
A shower, a haircut and with any luck
I'll get what i want... a rowdy long ****.
So I'm road worn and rattled and nothing is new.
For crissakes almighty I'll be forty-two!
The thing about aging, as best I divine
Is doing it all for a great second time.
So that rowdy long ****... better make it a double.
I'm ****** up and crazy and looking for trouble.
A dangerous outlook for someone my age?
I got here today without skipping a page
And I've already committed most every sin.
Who cares what will happen?  I'm twenty-one!  Again.

The night from which I creep;
Slowly off it drips in light.
The days when I do sleep;
Waking up, I jump in fright.
As came the rhythm, went the beat,
To the left and from the right.
When our ambling, wayward feet
Crossed paths that fateful night.
We knew we had to meet.
Knew it at first sight.
Most Herculean were our feats.
Together we had might.
But it was a dead-end kind of street;
Where our fancies took to flight.
Of our sowing we did reap.
And of our coupling; two unite.
But it's our standing of the heat
Of the flame we did ignite.
Only then does life taste sweet,
Or all the world look bright.
Are we then to be complete?
No. It seems we're never quite.
Pay attention now! It's deep!
It's a depth that can excite.
Is it yours, or my conceit;
That has gained so much in height?
All your tricks to me you treat.
Like a dog, you lick and bite.
But it's the words you make me eat,
Though your interest be so slight.
It's the secrets that you keep.
It's the people that you spite.
While shifting in your seat,
Pass teeth you clench so tight,
Spew the insults that you heap;
In a verse so erudite.
Is it faith that needs  to leap?
When your curse is so polite?
No nothing is so neat.
It's not just black or white.
And venom’s prone to seep.
Making everything seem trite.
Like when your boat has sprung a leak.
Or your fruit's gone over-ripe.
Or in another late night tweak,
That we attend without invite.
I'm still your favorite all-time freak;
Always falling for your hype.
But time can only fleet;
Like water down a pipe.
Or the tears you often weep.
Is it fear or shear delight?
And the answers that you seek;
To your sad and sorry plight
Won't be found at some retreat.
Mistaking ritual for the right.
So of the matter; find the meat.
And of the purpose; don't lose sight.
It's the truth you know I speak.
And in the end it's **** or fight.

waddle waddle waddle; at full throttle.
squeaking up a roar.
slamming, in a silent way
almost every open door.

dawdle dawdle dawdle; coo and coddle.
virtues of a *****.
never learning how to play
but always keeping score.

model model model; ship in bottle,
seeking out a shore.
life is only just today
not after or before.

rumble rumble rumble; belly grumble.
breaking for a fix.
deciding indecision
when it's time to call it quits.

mumble mumble mumble; feeling humble.
empty bag of tricks.
in need of some religion
and a lot of politics.

stumble stumble stumble; trip and tumble.
cross the river styx.
blinded by a vision
of the future it predicts.

gentle gentle gentle; swollen pimple.
tender and it hurts!
squeezing brings on some relief
when it pops and then it squirts.

mental mental mental; slow and simple.
cultural perverts.
with the honors of a thief,
disaster winks and flirts.

rental rental rental; gods and temple.
slogans on t-shirts.
the crux of the belief?
that everyone converts!

fiddle fiddle fiddle; dance in middle.
shoes made of cement.
following without a lead,
a purpose or intent.

brittle brittle brittle; sung through spittle.
this lyrical lament.
from the chains that all are freed
when all of life is spent.

riddle riddle riddle; with a little,
tantalizing hint.
if every want fulfilled a need.
would the sated be content?

tweakers tweakers everywhere.  there's barely room to stand.
little knots of junkies nod.  i think they're with the band.
ravers... rolling.  round and round.  chewing fruity gum.
cokeheads chatting. chatting chatty chats.  i feign i'm deaf and dumb.
stoners take it all by calm.  in need of nothing save visine.
drinkers drink.  until they puke.  get sad or just plain mean.
pill poppers pop to **** the pain.  or relieve life's daily stress.
remember!
you can always do a little more but not a little less.