Tuesday, August 23, 2011

A God Damned Nine to Five

On the edge,
Looking down over this precipice,
I see clearly
On each side, 
And the mountains
In front, sparkle
In the sunlight. 
I see the dangers
One one side
I see the dark and alluring light
I see 
What I have always seen
What I have always known
And who I have always been...

Well, not always...

But, that is neither here
Nor there
These days
Because those days
In between,
Those are the ones who really carved me. 
My stories
I tell fervently
To this audience of captive listeners
All the stories I know
Are addled with drugs
Or some other sort of decadance...

And I stand,
Looking over the edge
Of this precipice,
With my darling angel's face reflecting in the sky
And I know,
Which way I chose.
I know which side of the chasm 
I will live on. 
And I look down, 
Into that chasm once more, 
So hot that flames lick my cheeks
And I know
Which way I am going. 

But, then, 
My identity
I am already broken.
My stories are all broken.
And so, 
Can I put it all
On that fucking shelf?
Put away the piercings, 
And forget about my allure
To tattoos
Forget about the shaved head
And wearing all black. 

But, then...
Who am I?
And where do I go from here?
Can I uphold this image
While living in a two story...
Brick home? 
And where do I go from here?

Cause I wanna provide my son
With the fucking two story brick home!
God damn it!
I want him to have everything...
And that is all that really matters. 

So, I'm looking for a nine to five...
And I am back to writing at night
And the poetry
Does not bleed
As regular
But, it bleeds more fiercely
When it does. 
And I am looking to move
To a gated community...
Where I ain't gotta worry bout my shit...

Yet, I watch the grungy kid
Ride by, dirty,
Like fresh of the rails
Tattoeed, guitar slung
Over his shoulder
Struggling a little 
With the army green bag
That probably holds
The rest of his belongings

And I realize
I part of me wants to stay
A part of me misses
Those days of old
Those days of utter darkness
The sun
Hurts my eyes.

But, I gotta step outside
Earlier and earlier each year
As I get older
And as my little boy gets older.
And I think about his future
And all I want him to have. 

And I realize
That without question...
I gotta move to
A god- damned
Gated community. 
And I gotta get
A god-damned nine to five...
But, if that is what I have to do
To keep this little boy safe...
I guess I gotta suck it up.

Cause that is what being a momma is all about...
Ain't it?

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