There is something comforting,
about poverty and disorder.
I miss that old black and white tv.
I used to have to pound it,
to get a good picture.
It took effort.
I like that.
I never worried about clean floors.
Artists' paint was everywhere...
on me,
on walls,
on floors,
and on the beautiful canvas.
I was happy as a lark,
as I smoked cigarettes,
drank whiskey,
smoked dope,
and sang happy songs.
Money meant nothing to me.
I bought rounds for the house.
Now, all is in place.
No dust bunnies can exist,
in my anesthetic jail.
I live in an expensive hospital.
I am dulled by my stoic choice.
No liquor anymore,
no smokes,
no dope,
nothing is in disarray.
Everything is in its' rightful place.
Money is in the bank.
I wear the right clothes.
I drive a nice car.
I have a wonderful wife and child.
Yet...
my soul still screams for wildness,
and disorder.
An ordered life...
is slavery.
I am damned to my strangeness.
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Order....I say order in the house!..order I say...orderrrr!....I say order or you will pay the consequences! Mr. Cronborg....if you continue with these outbursts I will have to judge that you are in contempt! Now order I say order or I will send you to an empty cell. Orderrrrrrrrr!! Orderrrrrrrrrr! Do you not know that the court can read your mind? Stop with those thoughts!!!! Orderrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
ReplyDeletehey mike!...you sound just like debbie!...my sweet wife, who will be home tomorrow to shout orders at me!...and i will acquiese to her demands!...sig Heil!...onward, onward, onward soldiers...to the march of the symbols, the conformities...of our rigid world!...see you next week!...how are yah...send me email!
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