what is it about morning? (in 14 easy steps)
1.wake up
2.roll a joint, no a blunt
3.brush my teeth
4.wash my face (maybe)
5.play with cindy
6.eat
7.write a song or a poem or anything for anyone
8.take a shit
9.read, read, read
10.watch that movie
11.take cindy to the park with kelly
12.call mom
13.call dad
14.write another
you ever wonder what makes the morning so nice, so sweet?
everyday starts with a new promise when its sunny
i'll stop smoking, cheating, gambling, drinking, lying, dying
and each nights ends with a new broken promise when its dark
broekn, broken, broken, broken, broken, broken
"i used to be real pretty" she said to the pole that never listened to her
"i used to be the fucking man" he said to his cell mate
you ever what makes the afternoon so unbearable, so taxing?
i think its lunch
who did you have lunch with today?
did you eat lunch yet?
power lunch, short lunch, lunch meeting...
each one reminding you of how totally insignificant you really are
i each lunch alone, except when i eat with death
but her conversation is awful
i smoked a joint with frida kahlo this afternoon
she told me that i am in debt to myself a lifetimes worth of thought
i will never be able to pay that back; guess i'll start now
i want to live on beautifully painted tile floors so that cindy will slide
paintings all over so that you can get lost from yourself
what about the evening?
do you think that jesus or muhammad wondered about spelling words correctly?
or how their skin looked for that matter?
i konw they dealt with the police, but what were they like?
i'm starving
i should eat
this world is fucked and fucking beautiful
i love it for it's stupidity and our laughter
but seriously, you ever been broke in brooklyn?
meaningless in manhattan?
quiet in queens?
shit! you ever never been?
frida told me to use my words like fireflies
even ghetto kids get fireflies
and throw them out into the world to be caught
so i draped her in fireflies and she stood illuminating every little thing
with flashes and flickers of superior light
i wondered if words could unite on larger scales
could millions of voices speaking together blind death at least temporarily?
"you are thinking now" she said
shit i'm starving, i thought
there is always so much bad news now
used to be that i thought that bad things came far apart
like when i was a kid
if something horrible killed twenty people, something that horrible didn't happen again for what felt like forever and ever
but now its like everyday there is some MASSIVE atrocity
it makes me sick and my skin thick
"action! take action!" we scream
take back the white house
take darfur and beruit and iraq and afghanistan into our arms
and hold them
but who are fooling?
it is us that needs to be held
YOU HAVE BEEN FUCKING BABIED!
and told that baby's don't have to see this shit
they lied
welcome, welcome to our consequence years in the making
look out for terrorists wearing suits and using God
look out for those dirty badges
and look out for yourself, because under the wrong circumstances,
anything is possible.
what is it about the morning?
|
|
i'm trapped in a cage, inside of a maze, inside of a crazy thought.
|
Synopsis
WAKE UP!
A Word from the Writer
WAKE UP!
|