deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Perks

The perks
of this life is you
can lie in the one hand
and point the blame
at the other one
holding the knife.
It's like,
if you want to find out
where the demon lurks,
poke around in the mirror,
then get your reflective ass
back to work, right?
No one
shirks duty
and dies for free.
If you try to clock out early,
you'll have to look at that shit
for all eternity.
Write your name
in the mirror backwards.
Ride the crimson anemone;
one mane, no smirks.
Neckties don't work
when you're twerking
a broken bottleneck.
What is nine
times technical difficulty
on a broken stereo deck?
Good guess. Game over, kitty,
and the song remains the same.
Why can't I change the station?
Why can't I watch a different channel?
I bought all the infomercials,
yet they judge me on the toilet
from nine different panels.
Nothing special about Jesus.
I can heal the sick
and walk on water too...
all while wearing sandals.
The trick is
the comfort of your own home:
in the nook, beyond the fire,
by the kindling, under the mantle.
Now it all makes sense.
You're a human scented candle.
When indivisible
and indistinguishable,
everything gets a different name...
so we can appoint all the fingers
for fondling the flame.
Welcome to the opening bell.
You can't shirk work,
but you can sure shirk shame.
And shake, shake, shake,
shake it off... in hell.
arortiz73
Written by arortiz73 (MTP)
Published
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