Photo by Fally Afani
The arrows stab you
In the right direction
We find security in the tunnels
I walk them alone
With little wonder
The conservatives are not flipping
Time is not taking sides
Bags of M&M’s
Jars of Vaseline
Brownies and gluten free pasta
Nothing takes shape
We indulge to a formless mass
Whipping votes for canned lasagna
Pumping up the credits
With juice and cinnamon rolls
Regurgitating the one liners
We ride giant balls of sleaze
Back to Sysiphus
Sailing the seas of SPAM
That promise a longer thicker member
Sometimes we wade through Hell
For no apparent reason
And then it finds us
Like an arrow at the cross walk
Or a sleeping dog on an escalator
When exiting the building
Be aware the traffic runs both ways
Forget the melting clocks
The Iced cookies
The Teriyaki meatballs
We boldly handle
Boxes of discount rubber snakes
The Holy Ghost forgets
The human skeleton that
That poured the drink
The drink of drinks
Drink ye all of it
Every thing must drink
We hydrate to live
It is not a metaphor for blood
Schwervon! 