But, Everyone Does

Just working,as per usual

suspenders on- I’m suspended!

Up with the Argyles

I get to be myself twice a day,

three if I’m lucky

lucky, lucky, lucky.

With this clientele-

you never can tell.

Tip!  Tips!  Ribs.

Today- no fuckups




Sadle up

truck my parts out west

The World of Tomorrow!

resting in a wasteland



Glasses clinking-

pick ’em up

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 in my hand,

a finger in everyone,gripping


dirty cutlery

silver wears waste well

on porcelain faces

half the food’s still there

wonder how it got here…


Big City smiles

gone from their faces


humming a tune

you can’t sing there

-no boxes for songs

wind me up

I’ll play a tune… or two…


In the desert

the cows cry out

for better working conditions

Shout: “MURDER!”

Not much work anymore…


I eye my customer

“Aye aye, sir. I’ll be right back with ketchup and mayo and hot sauce”

His ribeye needing, bleeding before him

Filthy pockets

full of dust

the only way the wind blows

out his mouth, the ass.


When a Mercedes Benz

rolls over

in it’s grave

laughing stock of the live stock

billows Red 47 in the spray.

Nothing left but bits…

Curdled blood in dirt and dust.


Napkin wipes from every chin

the hard knock lives

now a feast within

and you wouldn’t know

it’s not bovine- not anymore…

Don’t know what to call it now

‘cept Patent No. 6395179081


Lay plainly in waste

across the interstate

no chicken goes

but plenty else

the machines’ll chew

and maul

and tenderize.


Don’t worry

someone stole all the heads

with dull rusty dusty saws

wanted to claim rights

over the right to kill

so they put it up on the wall

See me up there?

Yes you’re up there too.

Heck, there’s no necks at all

all our heads have been lost

and placed on the wall.

And mounted in the den

of every Pestered Lester

who could write with a pen

in Lesterland, they all collect heads…


Let’s let our jaws drop

and snarl a mean old face

or look off into the distance

at some far off place,

So majestic,

how grand!

All glassy eyed

removed of grace.

Their pipe smoke stings

all eyes


the smoking jacketed Lester crackers


I’ve bit the bit

and chew for you

thrash me,

lash me

whip me harder

spur me more

I’m the work horse here

Yes I’m the glue

with blinkers on

there’s nothing I won’t do!

Just feed me,

feed me,

feed me sugar!

Sugar, sugar, sugar!

Hey, Sugar!

BANG!  …Glue…


My dreams,

soiled greenly

falsely green

so unearthly

unearthed and unleashed

upon our one Earth.


In the Wasteland…

……………………..the barren tree…

…………………………..bares only strange fruit…

…………………………………………………………..that no one should eat…



But, Everyone Does.


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