The Gods of mediocrity
have a parking space
reserved for us

        The meter costs
        three coins but
        we’ve been shortchanged
        by the boatman

Early morning gravity
makes us fat
we haven’t changed
the strength to search
the fountains for pennies-

        -when Elysium has gotten pricey
        and the downhill
        walk is cheaper anyway

Your feet hurt well,
all our ******* feet hurt

so we lay in beds
in abandoned motels
and finger ourselves

where is the economical gain in that?

        THAT is a wasted effort
        a **** poor rain
        a trite consequence
        to an abysmal excuse

We have no choice
We must be born

Torn from the void
to endure the agony of body

Only to return
to the Great Stained Mattress
in the sky

        Only to give true definition
        to the term “squirt”

Michael Sinclaire/Mary Fahey. March 2013.