have not made one good decision this year
there are locust where the kings should be
i could be over by the decembers, a broken yolk
(you could delete me if you delete this poem)
yellow ooze, some spam crawlin
and the econonominy is fallin
un upside down sponge spewing blood at the ceiling fan
nervous about being fired and broke and
having to email the lady with the baby.
you could be my friend, you decide?
i am a liar and a gambler- a pretzel needs water you know-
there's a satire i here i know a pretzel needs water.
to be me
you be me
and be me
for whenever the rain comes