It will forlorn the final take. When the skit is over, and I need a drink. You take me to a hole to think, and I in turn, tell you what's to come. When you toss me down that black bat rum. Like a Folgers coffee 'break a leg.' It holds my arm to stop the shaking. Let's savor within my Chagrin-grin. A final tote. Add it to your collection. Right next to my recollection. She's a woman whose legs take flight. A hole that cries "why?" to my sigh. Let me put the why in your day. Within that speech I'll have much to say. I know you sit in silence, at least trice-a-day wondering. Wondering why we go to the moon, but turn our backs on starving neighbors. Billions of dollars laying aimlessly about as royal individualist trophies. Yet we know not our species. Nor respect this grand lab rat culture. Pushing instead on and away from one another. Every individual reaching for a chunk, a slice. Bitching endlessly about the price. Weren't they the ones on the K-mart microphone? Announcing the current & cute blue-light-special? Here... Take my advice. Down shift, slow down. Look around, hear choice sounds. Place your ear against the ground, meet. Listen to your mothers heartbeat, found. Weakening, lurched, faltering, gorged. Shrug your shoulders, and piss in the corner. Where you eat, sleep, yawn, soap, reap. Your soul shaker screams rotting carcass zipped. Every night in your slumber. Chained steadfast to that. Self-destructive ego, interpret. Look at me. Sitting! Fishing! Smiling! Already broken and adapted to the obvious. Your own death is waiting hands folded. Like some unopened jar of artichokes. Hiding in the back corner of your fridge. Pay your power bill to keep it cold & fresh. Refuse to pay, and watch it swell (the jar’s sides far) Seeking you out to lay its stench proper Cross your flesh backwards, and forwards. The hop scotch chalked side walk's next. Look instead for giddy children, And how they keep their nerve. Why assume the role of baggage handler? Within our intellects <Wet biscuits> Flounders our primitive instincts <Jewel pop> We just choose to lie ourselves asleep <Thankfull 4 Vicks> Over, and over, and over again <Burn victims> Why? Because we use toilet paper? Because we have MTV! Or maybe it’s just McDonalds. Symbolism haunts our daily observations. The twisting of reality begins with the naming of the objects surrounding us from birth, by them. What's your name? Blind and oblivious. Three monkeys doing face inuendos. See no Hear no Smell no Disco light hoopla Play-doe barber shops I could sit here forever Not thinking. Perfectly Monster cropped, and edged to promote Growth, then not grow a wink.