Magically, I wish I could wave this wand
and make all your problems just disappear
generally, things never happen like that
if they did how quick to create a bond
culinary magic comes with practice
as if your soufflé puffs up without fear
lifting up the spirits of our black cat
literally, sniffing the air for food
yet, I am no magician, the cactus
I brought from California tastes better
worked into a salad or as a stew
if only I could cook, your tight sweater
shows me if I were man enough, I'm through
holding hands, my crooked wand, stirs a roux
I imagine too sincere from the start
cultivate a love for those guttersnipes
only if, like Alan, I could play drums
until they broke me in two, broke my heart
left in poverty with a pair of sticks
drums sold to pay credit card debt, the gripes
work themselves out with salt and cookie crumbs
animosity resents how left out
vinyl in the sun warps a ton of bricks
egos inflated economically
transference, projection, acts out on stage
humble Mumble Bunny as comically
inferior as naked mole rat rage
shut the front door, get the fuck out, and shout
wicked words at willows offering shade
as if you could just leave it all behind
nothing but suffering whilst underpaid
diminished insights, the blind lead the blind
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