Morphine Home  September 1, 2007)

the cops were looking

i’d never seen them before

but i saw them first

the boneyard is done

they’re on to our ritual

deader than dead is

their evolution

it’s a quiet place to drink

kill off the thinkers

but it can’t be done

we’ll move it from here to there

it’s the grateful dance

there’s always a place

big love, just so many cops

to be used like that

the willingly ignorant

and the goddamned fools

the motivated

the voluntary cowards

they do it for kicks

and the reluctant

the idealists who needed jobs

they split their favors

it’s simple and so overt

i just walk on by

while they search my bags

they tear apart my wallet

and x-ray my balls

the syringe is safe

it is long and very sharp

john is on the bus

assuming the bus did come

john may be pissed off

gino throws bottles

gino shouts at people there

why do we have cops?

i am still hungry

but the girls like it this way

what are they serving?

it’s hard to sit here

beside greg’s bag of morphine

but i’m high enough

i’ll wear a dark shirt

they won’t see the dope through it

my face, no thinking

but all these gravestones

they don’t make me think of mine

except no graveyard!

today, mom’s birthday

got the answering machine

unavailable

and disappointment

sometimes she needs to create

the undeserving

my kids don’t call me

my kids didn’t talk to me

all there is just right

this son battles past

there’s no win in victory

mom ordains down, down

how does the kid curse

the best grandparents ever?

imagine the sins