a shake weight table steak powdered sugar cigarette break burning in alcohol and corn flakes
a big ******* cluster-**** of broken noses and carefully crafted poses posting pictures of processed hipster's and blisters, ****-stirrers and culture twisters jockeying for a spot all melting in the ***
quiz show **** beads and fleshlight teenage dreams soaking through entitled suburban screens choking on plastic screams
chocolate dipped cancer fingers
city bus exhaust lingers
prescription bottle salvation bringers
and underneath it all the bible belt girdles the gurgling masses of glazed diabetes and frosted faith pooling in the belly of America
a fat flabby mess of snake oil boiling in stomach acid and pesticide
"welcome, honey! grab a seat anywhere you'd like --I'll be right with you!"
the whole intention of life is to get through it there is no instruction manual there is no easy way to explain it to someone you are conceived and you die your journey is not predetermined your voyage can be altered your trip around the sun is your own unique ordeal put your seat belt on and enjoy the ride...!
Some times I wish If I will end like a poem after couple of lines. With broken stanza, rhythm unfinished. Some nights I found myself as extraterrestrial, in Mars, in Jupitar then lost across the Kuiper belt So far from the horizon. Some time I wish If it's become true that i never been here myself exist.
I came up in Pittsburgh, the Rust Belt of hard labor with a deep love of community. As children, we collected railroad spikes from the tracks and we cut our shins on random iron shards in **** hills. Some of us were union middle-class and others breathed the gray air of poverty. That hardly mattered. As we stood atop foothills that overlooked the city skyline, soot embedded under our fingernails, we lived as kings and queens that oversaw the future.
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A bottle beneath her cab in a pick-up truck or the fifth caught here behind the wheel If pride wouldn't don a cat about this vision wholly refined again and like a goat with a kid tied this climb atop the land and she found with her chickens in this ford or a pig there to book the dance with them all backstage and now her life was still full of assuage even so she sings the finer things in life here with that ***** in his belt.
i wish that you'd wear your seatbelt because i want you and no one else i wish we were both sedated because then there would be no reason to say we couldnt make it and the car is empty now, and i can't seem to figure it out - because now my heart is in my throat because i don't remember a word that you spoke because the music skimmed the air and i hang on to every note - now the melody is diguised in those little lies while the love we shared slowly died... so, i wish that i didn't wear my seatbelt because now i want to be anyone but myself
Ode to the belt And how nice it never felt Ode to the fist That knew just how to make my stomach twist Ode to the bruises Which left no excuses Ode to my jaw For that punch it never quite saw Ode to my ears All those nights when I could hear my brothers' tears Ode to my dad And every time he's ever gotten mad Ode to the world And every obstacle its hurled Ode to ode And how well it never quite bode