hillary step

i don't gamble with god
it's against my religion
or lack there of

not that it's saying that much
but as a way more dependable option
i worship vagina

or maybe just addicted to
but not the maybeline,cocaine mondays,
and pretty lil lies
that seem to flow so freely
from the clandestine meth lab in her eyes

no need for all the bells and whistles
smoke and mirrors
it's all in my heads
i'm so sorry
i'll never do it agains

i heard she moved to colarodo when i went to prison
and all i could think of was steely dan and van morrison
when i finally got my walking papers
i swaggered through those gates
with a new jaundiced eye
hardened heart, and crabbed soul
not barely once did i ponder
how we never really got the glow
how it was taking us way too long to get our shine on
only that someone had been meddling with my gravity
twisting my time
with ever changing jumps and stalls
yester years left me ill prepared
dangling on the end of the second hand's hook

sometime later
on my recent return from tibet
after another failed attempt to save my soul
i sware i saw her in a midwest bowling alley
arguing with an obviously intoxicated husband
over the reasons why they should not
involve their three already disobedient pre-teen children
in petty left
i followed her to her trailer park home
and left a letter on her door step

what's the difference between a wish and a prayer?
is a brother denied assistance because he's not that into
kissing ass?
does she still prey?
or has she finally figured out why i don't?
i still like to get high and drive.
shift gears and dream.
would you like to go for a ride?