junkyard poetry

I have been the crutches to a woman
who could walk well on her own
She was beating a horse
I never saw breathe or move at all

I have been digging my own grave
with my shovel of regrets and could have:s
and now my back is broken
and I'm too deep to get up

I have been worshiping the gods or nothing
up and down the streets of this town
pleanty of beer and alcohol
cigarettes and want for company

I have been praying in late night curches
and tempels in disguise
sacrificing both sanity and peace of mine
for some crutches at my hand

*******

look at me juggling
with so many personalities
I'm the arty party brat
and the beer drinking boi
I have so many clever monologues
memorized in my head
and you know
the only point to all of this
is to make you
want me to wake up in your bed
I have rehearsed so many tricks
get your hands up and applaud me
I'm the perfect drug
I'm morally appalling
come on and get your fix
show me why it should be you
to use me


*****

it's the end of another friday night
and look at how what you started ended up
there goes the girls
with holes in their pantyhoes
look at the cooky boys
wondering if they've had to much
to get it up
oh, the excitement of the 2 am buss
see the fifteen yr olds
who've not yet learnd how to play sober
look at the buisness woman
I bet she started out really proper

and if they'd try
I'm sure they could see
we're just extras in this
(or anyother) city