deepundergroundpoetry.com
what time does the floor show start?
...that is the question I
always asked myself
when my drunken father
came staggering home
with my mom sitting
on that worn out old
couch waiting for him
and his worthless den
full of lion lies and vodka
excuses
I had a front row seat
and I didn't have to pay
one red cent to see the
whole dammed show
now that's what I
call entertainment
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