Life Is Hard, Man
And Then You Die
The last time I saw
you weaving your way around
this tiresome shit town
you were too too high
and couldn't really talk much
about what you needed
from me or what else
you might want from the old crowd
that is anyway
not much around here
these days. Some have died you know.
Too much bad around.
I'm headed out too.
Soon you'll be all alone here,
you and your bad brain.
November 9, 2012 12:36 PM
Kudos and my thanks to my friend Wander who posted the really really dark poem (he says it is only a little dark, and anyway he has more planned for the character in it) that spawned this one. *Click Here* for that particular blog post.
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.