Wednesday, July 22, 2009

I want

A dog or a job
really both
and neither.
I want money from the dog
and love from the job
and I'd like to talk to God,
but he only works on the weekends
and the sound of the music
doesn't lift the weight off my chest
and the people in the alley
ain't the same as the ones in the valley
and what are we trying to scrape out of the sky?
do we call it wounded sky?
when it rains or bleeds
who holds this together
what if I die
and these are my last thoughts
does that say something about humanity
does it say anything about me
if I want to be buried with my shoes off
does it say something about my personality
that I ask questions but rarely use question marks
I don't like "quotations" either
I just want a job
and a dog
and a complete understanding of all things
and maybe somebody to buy these fucking magazines
why the hell are we scraping the sky"?"

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