I. Midas
i like to look at your picture because it reminds me that you are just a man
your hands have handed me horseradish and hard liquor and you’re about as chatty as the women on the view but it's great because i'm totally into this view
and ohio was gray until out of the blue, you touched me and i turned to gold
---
II. Indianapolis
i want to rage so hard in this life
i want to be so exhausted from living that i don’t even have the urge to fight back on my death bed
and i’ll be too worn out to walk into heaven that the angels will have to carry me in
only to have peter push me through the drop door and i’ll plummet straight into purgatory
which i’m convinced is the state of indiana
where there’s inexplicable construction funded by taxes from the four people who live there
inconveniencing all the rest of us who are just passing through
peeing in your roadside wallpapered bathrooms and marveling at your cows of many colors
the loudest noise in indiana is probably me screaming
it’s like each telephone pole took two days off my life
but i lived it. if driving through indiana meant giving life a chance, fine. i found a vegan restaurant in indianapolis and i got lost in indianapolis and i hated the fact that i got overwhelmed in indianapolis
but god put it there. so while the angels escort me towards the drop door, my legs will be too sore from LIVING my LIFE and i can turn around and look at peter and say have fun standing in the same place on your stupid pink cloud and before i know it i’ll land with a thud in a truck stop on I-70W surrounded by billboards advertising breakfasts and best westerns
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
I. Midas
i like to look at your picture because it reminds me that you are just a man
your hands have handed me horseradish and hard liquor and you’re about as chatty as the women on the view but it's great because i'm totally into this view
and ohio was gray until out of the blue, you touched me and i turned to gold
---
II. Indianapolis
i want to rage so hard in this life
i want to be so exhausted from living that i don’t even have the urge to fight back on my death bed
and i’ll be too worn out to walk into heaven that the angels will have to carry me in
only to have peter push me through the drop door and i’ll plummet straight into purgatory
which i’m convinced is the state of indiana
where there’s inexplicable construction funded by taxes from the four people who live there
inconveniencing all the rest of us who are just passing through
peeing in your roadside wallpapered bathrooms and marveling at your cows of many colors
the loudest noise in indiana is probably me screaming
it’s like each telephone pole took two days off my life
but i lived it. if driving through indiana meant giving life a chance, fine. i found a vegan restaurant in indianapolis and i got lost in indianapolis and i hated the fact that i got overwhelmed in indianapolis
but god put it there. so while the angels escort me towards the drop door, my legs will be too sore from LIVING my LIFE and i can turn around and look at peter and say have fun standing in the same place on your stupid pink cloud and before i know it i’ll land with a thud in a truck stop on I-70W surrounded by billboards advertising breakfasts and best westerns
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