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And the Sharks Come ‘Round…

Circle the chum,  
Bloodied waters,  
Teeth gnashing,  
It doesn't get gnarlier  

the man grown old  
limping down  
The streets of the city  
where dreams go  
to die  
she applies makeup  
to the jowls  
of a face  
That men used to  
Lie, cheat, and kill for  
Now, they don’t  
even make  
Eye contact  
(And not because  
They’re scared)  
But she still  
Gets those juicy  
Hollywood rolls  
As the fashion maven,  
Spirited grandmother,  
And the upset executive  
But she plays the feminist,  
So she’s hated  
People only like me  
When I’m stoned
Yeah, youth  
Is the enigma  
What you did back then  
Doesn’t make any sense  
And it was the best  
Those that can’t  
Recognize that now  
Are the reason  
It is thus  
He was a tyrant;  
I am a tyrant
We fly by, unfulfilled  
We are all a shell  
Of our former selves  
We all let reality  
Get the best of us  
And ride that out  
To the bitter end  
Good lord;  
My friend
Watching carcasses  
Turn to maggots  
On National Geographic  
Sending telegraphs  
Into the abyss,  
Abysmal on Monday  
Halfway to  
New Brunswick  
You could never  
Have any fun  
With it  
It had something  
To do with  
The albatross  
That dirty little secret  
Nobody ever talked about  
Now we were  
Down south  
On Super Tuesday  
Ten months to  
The nuclear codes  
And things were  
Going swimmingly  
Suck my dick  
On Wednesday,  
Let them enjoy  
The solitary confinement  
Let the stars realign  
Before I fuck this  
Bitch on her period,  
What you could get  
With your looks  
Blood & guts,  
Nothing else  
The floods  
Never come,  
Your hero gets  
You reach for  
The bottle,  
Then these keys  
And that’s when  
It all makes sense  
I don’t know,  
Do you just  
Want to espouse  
Your mindless blather?  
Or do you want  
To say something  
That actually matters?  
That someone  
In a Coldwater apartment  
Can read,  
Giving him the means  
To carry on  
And not become  
A suicide bomber  
Or a mass shooter,  
But a dude  
Who can do  
Something good  
Not a Marco Rubio  
Or a Ted Cruz,  
But a Bernie Sanders  
Or a Donald Trump  
These people who  
Want it the same  
As it ever was  
Are either filthy rich,  
Mindless sheep,  
Or clueless rubes  
And I don’t know  
What utopia is,  
But when I shut  
My door  
On Friday night,  
I’m halfway there  
And I don’t care  
who’s in charge  
of the nuclear codes  
I’ve got a fifth  
Of vodka,  
A sixer of IPA,  
And a gram  
Of dirt weed  
I got from that  
Big Lebowski-looking dude  
Outside that bar  
In downtown Playa  
After playing quarters  
Until 4am  
With my oldest friend  
And some random chick  
6 months after  
my prescription ran out  
watching clips of  
aging degenerate  
pro skaters  
and fat Canadian chefs  
living in Brownsville  
keep it real, yo  
suck me on Thursday,  
and spare me  
the advertisements  
you ain’t selling me shit  
I don’t want  
What you have,  
I don’t want you  
I don’t care  
If I die  
And because of it,  
I will always be  
On the edge  
Of the Pacific,  
Never offering  
Any specifics,  
With friends  
And family  
What happened  
To me  
Well, I simply  
Rejected all of you  
You weren’t up to par,  
You were something  
I had to deal with,  
You are something  
I never agreed to  
Goddamn it!  
You were average  
Why did you always  
Have to be like that?  
Why was it always thus?  
Why was she always  
Licking my nuts?  
And not the spot  
The mysteries of life  
Once again needing to be studied  
For an electorate  
That was too lazy  
To see the meaning  
In anything  
Because finally they knew  
Meaning didn’t exist,  
It was assigned  
Or it wasn’t  
It was played  
By some weird  
British dude  
It all melted into  
It was some  
Indian guy  
Reporting on  
The drug war  
And just getting  
Some ad spots  
Because of it  
Good job, bro  
Now I’m in  
Now the downed hero  
Will come back  
Better and stronger  
Than ever  
Oh, that’s nice  
I’m going to put this  
On a free-publishing  
And about 15 people  
Will read it,  
I’ll get three likes  
And one comment:  
"We all have  
That one girl  
We’ll think about  
‘til our dying day  
all the while  
saying we’ve moved on"  
-Fucking impeccable
and they’re right  
and if it’s not all  
a big scam,  
it’s a jerk-off general  
it’s that jalapeno pepper  
you should have never  
right before you got the call  
it’s that job  
you should’ve never taken  
all those fucking  
years ago,  
the one you still  
have now,  
the one that offered  
no skill set  
that could propel  
you any further,  
and who wants that, anyways?  
The goal was to get out,  
The goal was accolades,  
And big-titty bitches,  
And money,  
And yachts,  
Designer drugs,  
And vulgar culture  
Out in Saint-Tropez  
Sippin’ that fine wine  
In white linen,  
No socks  
In my Gucci loafers,  
Your bitch is suckin’  
My dick  
As you shake hands  
With your associate  
On that business trip  
Out in Houston  
Me, a man of leisure,  
A lecher of all  
Fine things,  
Leeching what they say  
I don’t deserve  
A bum of the highest order  
Sippin’ Winter Reserve  
As I watch the results,  
Alone in a Coldwater apartment,  
Utterly shocked…wow  
Now that’s good writing;  
A twist ending  
Nobody saw coming  
Written by Taurek
Published | Edited 17th Mar 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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