this is it, man
the last stop before hell
the final chapter before knowing the unknown
I prayed this day would never come
and I have feared it more than death itself
but now that it has arrived, I can’t move,
I’m paralyzed, comatose,
almost vegetable-like
too many nights were spent
laughing with diesel-powered killers,
singing with mop-haired lepers
in monotone slate
& dancing with minotaurs around
the open flame of age
it’s all behind me now
my days roll through soft and fuzzy
like peaches in the August heat
a cozy bed, comfy pillows, secure blankets
and yet, I felt safer in more dangerous places
(I always preferred the acid rain dripping from the mossy underpass over the holy water bubbling in the Vatican jacuzzi,
yeah dig?)
but now that I’m surrounded by all this
security, comfort and warmth
I feel less alive, almost finished,
when I’ve got so much more to unleash
like a mad dog, old and vicious and untrained by its master with enough bite
to inflame your wrists with rabies.
it’s been one hell of a picnic, lemme tell ya:
kissing death under the ring of vultures
loving women like a broken bear trap
delivering music like an olive branch
cleansing myself from these filthy poems
it’s time to turn it over to someone else
let them abuse the night
and listen to it scream
me? my nights weep themselves to sleep
and I join in on their sorrow.