corruption and greed
it is money that we need
to satisfy our hunger
for food and drugs and plunder
we know what we want and will do what we can
to be nothing but the top dog, the man with the plan
rats get fat while brave men die
if you're not rich, isn't it easy to see why?
they live in luxury and security
the way they earn it is through impurity

They are neither here nor there
Floating in between brackets
A Just-Enough-Life
Not enough to afford diamonds and pearls

A false sense of security
Cushioned by the comfort of mediocrity
The middle of the food chain
Trapped in a cruel cycle

A powerless urban aristocracy
The aspiration of the poor people
The men and women of the white collar
The average citizens

They receive average wages
Their expenses and debt are beyond average
They have average education
They live average lives

How shall we escape from this dreadful life?/...

"Why did
you let that
man cut?"

"Because your
mother is a
good person."

My dreams
do not come attached to
the ideals of my people
or the sacrifices of another country.

Instead I am poor
and mine are clinging to life
the very idea of existence.

Mundane flashes--
not adventurous endeavors
nor flights around the world
this is what richly folks do.

Simply a mingler
someone whose life
flourishes around the bends
of florescent street lights
and panhandling
nearby a farmers market
just after sunrise.

This remnant is few
as these are neighbors
local countrymen
who stoically face
the world's deviation
and deprivation
from coexisting

by the bonds of
agriculture and personality
even as a beggar
it is but a joyous memento
to a world that
no longer thrives.

He grew up just him and his poor mother
No sweet sister, no rough and tumble brother
His Dad was M.I.A.
It happened in the usual way

But he didn't care
A cub never needs a father bear
His mother sufficed
Taught him wrong from right

He had it all figured out
He knew without a doubt
He had watched the rich kids laugh and joke
While in property he wallered and choked

So he studied hard and got good grades
In college he didn't party, never went to any raves
Got a corporate job, had a 3 figure income
He had money to pay bills, buy cars and then some

He took care of his mom till she passed away
He learned a great lessons on that rainy gray day
Money couldn't stop his mom from dying
Grown men where not above crying

The years quickly passed, he was married to his job
To those less fortunate he was a snob
On the streets he never gave the bums a secound look
If they had only took a page out of his book

He thought money was the way to happiness
Those he thought of as sad always had less
He had forgot about the lesson of the stone with it's dashes
Then the day came when the stock market crashes

He should of invested his time in a family
Instead of that money tree
For soon all his money was gone
Things in his life was going all wrong
His job disappeared, along with his home
Soon on the streets he had to roam

Now he was one of the despised
But on the streets he truly grew wise

Through hardship he found true friends
The ones that would help you to no end
For they know the pain of need
There was never any thought of greed

He was astonishingly amazed
That even with the poverty that he was grazed
He was happier now
Than chasing that cash cow

A good woman found him
His future then didn't look so grim
Years passed and they married
Over thier rundown apartment threshold, her he carried
Soon it was babies in his arms
He truly knew now his vision of life had been wrong

Now he knew
Where it was that happiness grew
In the hearts of ones you loved and cared for
Being rich or being poor was both a chore
It's all just clatter
Unless to someone else you matter

We trade words like old coins,
Rattling them in our piggybanks
Until they clink past our teeth
And onto the floor between us.
Coin for coin,
They slide in exchange.
Fair is fair,
Each is stashed in the others collection.
And when we leave,
I know our sums have stayed the same,
But somehow I always feel richer.

I see no difference in sadness and joy
Both are temporary

I see no difference in life and death
Both are a state of mind

I see no difference between the rich and poor
Both would face the same end

I see no difference in pain and comfort
Both are mindlessly given to you

I see no difference between war and peace
Both causes each other

I see no difference between dark and light
Both have a gray zone

I see no difference between straight and queer
Both desire to be loved and to give love

A cannibal of currency
You’re not yourself anymore.
Became your purse long ago,
Sense of self tied to coins
Of which you’ve never held.

Little man, little man,
where is your home?
The house on this hill
Just an empty shell
Painted like so much canvas.

There for the eyes of your peers
But your peers aren’t your friends
And your friends aren’t around
Tell me please, where did they go?

Little man, little man,
Do you hear the sound?
No one is calling your name
Where did they go
And where are they now
And why aren’t your friends in their homes?
Little man, little man
Do you hear the sound?
They’re making it plain as day.

You ate their income
Ate them of their house and their home.
A cannibal for currency-
Consumed all your friends,
Fat little pig on the hill.

Little man, little man
(You) can no longer ignore the sounds
Of ten thousand mouths
All hungry for you.

You ate their money
But you couldn’t stomach
The pure human spirit inside.
Now they have crawled back,
Out from the ghettos,
Starving and hungry for you.

Forced to eat each other,
You’ve all but raised cannibals,
But this time of flesh and of blood.
Little pig, little pig,
Can you hear the sound,
Or have you become deaf
To your own cries as well?

No one will miss you
You don’t have a home
Your friends became food
A long time ago.

(Die Geld von die Leute Sie Essen gekauft
Sie isst ihr Geld,
Mehr jeden Tag,
Kein Geld fur Essen
Sie isst Sich,
Jagd nach dem Hunger,
Fett kleiner Mann,
Jetzt der Jaeger ist Essen fur jeden Mund
Kleinen Schwein, Kleinen Schwein
Konnen Sie den ton horen?)*

Greasy lip smacks
Sound like ten thousand claps,
The only applause that you’ll ever hear.