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Mind Messages for B-- D----

At five in the AM I woke myself up yelling
some-about the money I am missing by the coffee I ain't sellin.
I stood up for the witchcraft in the morning by the shade
and I shouted at the bird, was he was there to bring me Lemonade?
I invested in believin' he would shower me with glory
but you know there ain't no use for asking favors in the morning.
See there's nobody on the planet on the streets or on the inside
who can spare me a kidney for two hundred nickels or fine chocolate for a lime and a dime.
I am a loud kid and I'm tired of common courtesy.
Seems the more I give it out the more it strangles me.
These are things I can't be owning because it's them who's claimed the leash.
Can't run far, they'll follow me. Can't wash my clothes and can't breath
without giving giving credit to my cards, the full house
in my wallet has me choking on my feet, cause I ain't moved them for a while
beyond the line of Commerce City.
Ain't no moving aint no speakin 'fore yer joints is good and hard,
no thinkin' about leavin til your brains is in a jar.
If you haven't read the rules, here is Rule Number Four:
No rattle snakes beneath my door, I'll chase you to the zoo.
I'll get your teeth and make you snack on everything I chew.
So where's this lamb I've gotta kill, I'll crack his downy knees.
Give me the fish, I'll pull his gills, I'll change the way he breathes.
I'll leave the bones out by the river for the Mexicans to see.
I'll smear their windows and break their cars and slash their destinies.
Who? I bet you'd do quickly it for one -ninth of a good time.
Right now they've got you by your underwear and you're hanging on the line.
Me, maybe I'm a slow house winding down the carpet-eating vine,
There'd better be some better things that's a comin down the line.
If I believe that I've been good then I can fix me with a whore
who can show me two side of livin I ain't never seen before
and if our neighbor is a pilot-driver we'll be knocking down his door.
with a quiet request to fly his plane but with a mandatory tone, ask him if he's got any more.
There are children making nests on the rusted railway,
there are mothers with their children who throw their teeth away.
while the richest ones can pay to have their living their own way,
the brown ones in the sun have broke the law and granted they must pay.
Give me up your precious fun and give me all your gold.
Give me four beats maximum for your average throbbing pulse.
To beat the heat of factories they stand out in the sun.
To cool their minds and disguise their eyes they've always got to run.
Sleep is easy, mother, lay the pills upon my lids.
but Juan Manuel is hot as hell and begging for a kiss.
Intend no pun, it has been done. It's true, I want you too.
And when the poem has had its fun a romping we will do.
I came back on my birthday, twenty years ago.
When I knocked on my own back door it was my mother said hello.
I said goodbye, good woman,
nice try and good night, unless for my cigarette you have a fire light.
And she stomped her foot to the floor and cried what!
I know what its like to be young here, but
You can't go around here lashing your legs
like a blind bleeding helicopter in the everglades.
And I said why not? I'll give it a shot. I'll give up my free will
and see what I've got, what I get, what I lose, what I win, how much booze
will I buy with my eyelashes and carrot creme rouge.
No offense to you, you've got nothing to gain.
You've had funerals and fires and miles of pain.
I bet Denver's for them hicks who kick the kinda kid I is.
Better to leave them with their own kids and
without my talking lisp to whisper with a stiff lipped whip
that their fiscal trip dreams are nothing so big.
No! My sister spied on me with robots in her eyes.
You are not among the crowd of those who can't be criticized.
I'll tell you here and now that your complexion is quite rough.
I feel remorse for every boy and every girl that you've fucked.
You whistle too loud and you smoke too much and where's the money you make?
I'm beginning to wonder if having you was your mother's big mistake.
Lately you've been lazy and you're acting very weird.
Why don't you grow your hair out and forget about the beard?
And I woke up a thorny rose to whisper in its ear:
"it's not my fault I can't behave. Who craves to be a working slave?
I'm not no one no how today. Tomorrow maybe I'll be great.
And I'll turn around and see their frowns at the chains they each have kept.
The cocks they've sucked and the money they've spent
for a one way ticket to the famous garden of regret. Oh heck!"
I said.
Beneath the weed trees and among the sand
and across from the pop cans and near the pot pans
I've found one fidgeting mister for to occupy my right-side hand
and my left-hand-hand goes running down the front of Peter Pan.
He believes like I believe that life ain't what you planned.
Money ain't worth the time it takes to buy a three man band.
So you poor old fools stay locked in your house and refuse each hand to lend.
You hide behind your shadow from your parents and your friends
and when yer birthday comes you kindly wrap up all their old dead ends.
You've got it down-pat, you're happy to pretend.
When you're climbing up the money tree just begging for an end.
The view behind my eyes has me real stiff and scared.
To be outdoors in plain old view for salty men to stare.
Those perverts are the reason I can never grow my hair.
It takes a genius to see that they's not no major I've declared.
There's one up there among them who's become downright insane
to pick me up all by my guts and mushroom stamp my brain.
to rattle me up and down the walls
and rip me to pieces for a round of applause.
Here comes a big woman just strolling down the street. It's dark as hell and late as late
and it's no safe place to be.
She settles my nerves drinks my wine and wraps me around a tree.
Take it easy there! This isn't the chair!
Its much too dark to see.
If I aint competing to be in the lead
there's not room to rob me on any degree.
What's there to steal from me anyhow?
What's to be taken? Did I drop it on the ground?
If I lost it somewhere back there then I'll gladly turn around.
Here comes a car, I saw it from far.
my buddy love has arrived.
He comes out the door
and pulls me aside.
He hangs me on a fence to dry.
Oh my god it's love from above.
We can have our parents as our kids and do to them what they have did.
We can spare them fast before they're dead. Now, how many more birds do we have to catch?
how many wings do we have to snap
how many fish do we have to rip
how many more gills to peel
Now we're just two kids in the wilderness
where people bathe in human soap
and climbers climb on human rope
and cheaters cheat to get respect
and we lovers lose the things we catch.
We are the old kids, blowing kisses in the wind
while the newborns shoot candy through the soft spots in their skin.
They get old and smoke dope through blackened chimney holes
and breed too soon and and leave too soon before the bread can even get cold.
I'sa swimming in the colors of your youthful rotten days,
and time came in an airplane and it gathered you away.
you've done too much, you've gone too far.
You've known for a while I wouldn't keep up.
with five cups of coffee and three shots of rum
by the end of the day I never feel done.
Eye drops for baby. Baby for mom.
Weddings and sleighbells for female flaw.
They feed on weed and gnaw on straw.
Their lives are phony and their guns are shot.
When I needed to go
I walked down the hall.
Noticed nothing new
written in the bathroom stall.
Their minds work in pictures
and nobody can draw.
If you don't much mind the thought,
I'll take your guitar
and break your laws.
That's all.

22 Jun 08

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good poem
 — stout

Amazing rhymes.
 — unknown