no one cares if
they live or die
skin, body, spirit
Grinding, Sweating
away the hours
the years of their lives
to live in a ****** place
get drunk, get ******
procreate further minions
to carry on tradition
of assembly-line-like
existence.
there must be something
something to believe in
more to this our mortal life
than the morning commute
the eight-hour-blur
the drive home
falling into a chair
in a room you can't afford
to watch mind control
media, bureaucracy, drudgery
there must be something
a better way to be
on planet earth
the planet is a wonder
the people I like
but not what we do
what we have done
for years on end.
give us something
anything - to believe in
no more nihilism
no more consumerism
no more shackles of debt
when the plague is over
give me the green fields
in the foothills
in the small towns
give me the summer
sidewalks in the city
give us all easy living
like when they talk about
summer of sixty-nine.
give each of my poor friends
a home to call their own
show the people mercy
give the folks who cannot
take care of themselves
the Haven they deserve
and care from all of us.
nobody
no one
not a soul
should have to spend
everything in them
just to get by.
we all just want to make it.
is that too much to ask?

(No. 3)
I spent the evening
At Brother Ballantyne's
With the man himself
On Darius' Ranch, just past
The lime-green street sign
Which read "Nowhereville"
The best place to be
Nowhere whatever
I sat down with faces
A bit familiar to me but
Their names unimportant
"I like your friends" I said
"But what sets us apart is-
We ask all the questions."
We listened to Ugly Casanova
Painted like Picasso
In conversation as we sat
Smoked Cohiba Maduro 5 cigars
Drank fiery juice until
We were out of our heads
Wearing house slippers
& a false fur jacket
Which drew too many questions
Got too many laughs
But I have to admit, I liked
- the attention -