I painstakingly write while getting off on the pills
But poetry ain't paying the bills
So drinking bourbon is cheap , fashionable and
forgotten
A white tablet is considered crude , deplorable and woe begotten
So now I'm high contemplating life beneath the bridge
Making a living out of some back alley can
I've been offered many a 'management' position then off I ran
*** kept the forest fire 'manageable'
The work /home thick line cruelly interchangeable as beggars work the store fronts , liquor and potato chips were on sale in
bright red font
Children waited for their parents in locked ,
still running cars
Artificial , yellow light blocked out every star
Profane laborers exit the seven o'clock bus ,
drink from brown paper bags and share their
hard day out loud
Desperation running north and south as the towns three way
intersection grinds to a halt* ..