deepundergroundpoetry.com
Naked Breakfast
It helps to have seen the movie "Naked Lunch", based on William Burroughs' novel, in understanding this effort. Even then it might not make much sense. But give it a shot. It was fun to write.
Those nightmares just darted away
Tried to corner them but no such luck
Something about dragging my ass over fences
The chain links chiming
Blowing my cover as the cops close in
Bummer, yeah, but just another red dream
So, peeling back the sheets, and up
My back reminding me of surgeries past
Find myself in the bathroom for a shower and void
Then scraping off my face
The razor dull, my reflection unforgiving
Next finding some passage through this "convenience" dive
Trying to ignore the PC flipping on
Manifesting signs of insect life, the usual delirium
And its morning nag about looming deadlines
The ones already past oh so long ago
Due to the usage of my controlled substances
The bug powder I peddle in the trade
Cut with baby talc, but does the job
Whipping demons until they hemorrhage
Have to re-up later, that painful process
Just enough to allow me and Babe to contemplate some fun
The William Tell Game, our aim being a lie
But that 38 we take pride in keeping fully loaded
Just our way of staying true
But the thought goes up in the smoke
Gathering when desperate times require starvation measures
When even product placement appears a viable option
Never mind all those screams of "sell out!"
All those accusations of cowardice and treachery
Heard over a bowl of whole wheat flakes
The Breakfast of Champions.
Those nightmares just darted away
Tried to corner them but no such luck
Something about dragging my ass over fences
The chain links chiming
Blowing my cover as the cops close in
Bummer, yeah, but just another red dream
So, peeling back the sheets, and up
My back reminding me of surgeries past
Find myself in the bathroom for a shower and void
Then scraping off my face
The razor dull, my reflection unforgiving
Next finding some passage through this "convenience" dive
Trying to ignore the PC flipping on
Manifesting signs of insect life, the usual delirium
And its morning nag about looming deadlines
The ones already past oh so long ago
Due to the usage of my controlled substances
The bug powder I peddle in the trade
Cut with baby talc, but does the job
Whipping demons until they hemorrhage
Have to re-up later, that painful process
Just enough to allow me and Babe to contemplate some fun
The William Tell Game, our aim being a lie
But that 38 we take pride in keeping fully loaded
Just our way of staying true
But the thought goes up in the smoke
Gathering when desperate times require starvation measures
When even product placement appears a viable option
Never mind all those screams of "sell out!"
All those accusations of cowardice and treachery
Heard over a bowl of whole wheat flakes
The Breakfast of Champions.
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