We are all zombies
          of the institution,
when will stop following
the others that walk through
life feeding of others misfortune..

Break the shackles of life,
               don't walk, run free.
Be yourself not a clone stumbling
on roads to no where..
      Walk paths that others fear to tread.

Death came tap-tapping
at my window one night
where a lone lantern was lit
above my windowsill
like a single coal burning
in the belly of night.

Death had a plain enough face
not horrid or frightfully grinning
but only tired and ordinary
as he made the weary last round
at the end of his shift.

I opened my window a crack
to see what he wanted
and he slithered inside like a cool breeze
and he sat on the foot of my bed.

“Worry not, I have not come to collect your whole life’s debt,”
said he, “I have come for only one small payment, you see.”
I did not protest, for these are loans we all must pay,
and my day to die was not that day.

Death reached his gentle hand
inside my chest cavity
and rummaged around
behind my heart
into the pit of my stomach
until he finally grasped
a feeling deep down,
a precious gem of hope
that I had kept well hidden,
and it was this that he pulled out
and he put it in his purse.
“For now this will suffice,” he said,
“I shall leave you to your bed.
Adieu until we meet again.”
and he left through the window as
as quick as he came.

I lay back in my bed both restless and weary
With a draft in my chest
where my treasure had once been.
There the dark it did occur to me
that the lantern light on my windowsill
had gone out along with my payment.

If I had a car
I would want a’68 Ford Country Sedan
Big, huge, beastly
A masculine power fantasy

If I had a motorcycle
My fishnet legs would look so hot
Draped either side of its seat
And a highway to myself

If I had boat
I could go out
And I could float
On the water, on the lake

If I had a car,
If I had a motorcycle,
If I had a boat,
I would have a lot and lot and lot of debt

Tug of the Rope…by Jessie 10/05


Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me getting cold
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Never got the chance to grow old

Feel me kick and twitch at the air
Feel me sway back and forth
Feel my lungs as they gasp for a breath
Feel the crowed as they stare

All of the sorrow, I brought to this world
All the things I’ve done
Today I will pay all my debts
For the pain, that I’ve caused to each one

Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Feel me slipping away
Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Nothing left to say

My lifeless body hangs from this rope
The crowd roars out with a cheer
Mothers, covering their children’s eyes
Through her trembling fingers they peer

Feel the tug of the hangman’s rope
Taught, thick and straight
Feel the tug of hell calling me
As, I pass through her fiery gates

My debt-ridden past,
more than I asked.

The transactional present,
less pleasure, more torment.

An easy-payments future,
more payments not fewer.

So many give-aways,
at a price I cannot pay.

It's neo-consumerism,
with the soft bite of fascism.

We're infected by the bug,
so we take
the offered
drugs.

All I hear is talk about success.
Words that come through one ear and get stuck deep in the chest
Money, fame, a leading career
But all I got is debt, a bad temp job, and a cold cracked beer.

Bills keep accumulating, time is running short
Unfulfilled dreams in every adult life, makes you wonder if it’s all even worth a shot
If my morals were a bit lower and my chest a bit bigger I would already be a stripper
Life’s set up so you are born a quitter

Started from the bottom and stayed there
Because can’t climb a mountain without the proper gear
Don’t have money for the hooks, nor the time to hit the books
In this date and time, I’d probably be better off investing in my looks

Working full time, studying full time, living part time,
Do it for now, because this is it, you are at your prime.
It’s only temporary, it’s all worth it because you are climbing the corporate ladder,
Your work is timed, you better not use off the company’s time. Better hold onto your bladder

Maybe I’m better off trying to climb up that stripper pole
Because exposing yourself seems better than this slow mental death. Come on stare at my hole
Because my mind is gone, didn’t make any gold, just kept on the digging
Here I am swinging, and tripping, you better keep on tipping.