worry window

Singin these songs as much as possible like they are my last ones.
but I barely pick up the guitar anymore.
It takes me 4 drinks to write
and everytime I do it's too arghhhh!
or poor me.

These old tunes I play and sing,
hurt more than they been helping lately.
The way it's easier to strum them now
produces more of the feeling I'm trying to avoid than the desire to do it well.
Miss the work.Too many now easy old concrete blue notes.

Wish for shorter teeth.
I hate the word nostalgia,
because it was one of the first ones I learned
that made me feel like I'm not the only sorry fuck to feel this way.
Never known commraddery in misery.

People hate us irish here more than niggas,jews and italians.
The instructions on how to make other's hangovers hurt more are apparently in full circulation.
Fuckin polocs are the only people that faded out enough to not get hated on or constantly fucked with by the police anymore.
It's like when your old lady says she thinks your boss's girlfriend's shoes are outta style.
Humans get jealous but forget about it when it's not in their face everyday.

I like listening to camron and the rolling stones at the same time.
My dogs will kill you.
My balls do hurt,
from thinking about my favorite female writer's vagina too much.
I like that people think my face is swollen from getting hit and not sitting in front of my computer drunk,crying all night,
but right now I don't care if you know.
I wish I had a good,smart freind like Dallas Winston.

I think I need a long winter up north.
A skin on skin grease vs. soc fight like Fulton against Hannibal.
A frozen fig newton. Shit was good when we used to have those.
Some shoveling.
Maybe I could make some snow balls,put em in the freezer till spring and throw em at cop cars after the thaw.
That way they have no evidence in an officer assault case if I happen to trip on the railroad tracks and get caught again.

Something cold to keep the swelling down,
and something to do in the morning when my hands are still shaking.
I miss having to not follow the tire tracks in front of me in a white out at 2 am,
in fear of hitting the ditch because of someone else's inablity to navigate home from the bar.
I miss having to hit the dash to get the heater to work.

I'm not like everyone else down here.
I need to drink myself to life instead of death with springsteen and bear vs. shark everynight,
to not punch people in the face in the morning.

I've heard it over and over.
"Be afraid of the man with nothing to lose"
Fuck that...
Fear the guy that has something to fight for.
Who will compromise all his own values and commit any heinous act to maintain what he does have.
How little it may be.
That's the dude you don't fuck with...