Tuesday's got a broken hot rod
It drives too slow, or doesn't go
Tuesday's got a lazy day ahead,
has creativity at best
has no productivity
but many things to arrest
And she's not only a loner
driving on a road,
she just doesn't want an answer
wants to keep her glow
Where is it?
Not where she thinks it is
Not in the trunk
not in the birdcage with the canary
not in the pistol in her kiss
Where is Tuesday going?
Not to Wednesday, that's for sure
Thursday's daydream makes her
unable to settle down anymore
She smiles, the sun is setting
If only Tuesday could learn to fix
that broken hot rod already

With,

nothing left

to give

I went crawling back

for more

Barbiturate sunshine afternoons
obscure the niggling work pile
and with fat heat, cool anger,
opening evenings to virtuous
leaf based dinners
only slightly ruined
by too much beer and ice cream

Mr Life
I’ve got plans
Things to do
Things to see
Don’t want to be
An also ran
I’m depressed
Getting stressed
Because of you
You get in the way
Each and every day
I reach up to the skies
But it comes as no surprise
When I come tumbling down
And as I hit the ground
There you are you rascal you
No wonder I feel blue
If you want trouble and strife
Why don’t you get yourself a wife?
Mr Life

I've lost a bunch of notebooks in my time
But I filled some up with lonely vines
Cloaked in thorns, so they'll be fine...
But what about you?
It seems your bleeding from your spine

We used to be twenty
sitting around complaining
and smoking
like twenty year olds do.

Now we're thirty
sitting around complaining
and vaping
like twenty years olds do.

I've always hated
that question.

I've wanted to die
since I was
eleven years old.

Isn't that
reason
enough?