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Poem

Through the bumble bee roads, I drive
Fleeing the swarms of pissed off hives
That find me around almost every street light
Through the infinite paths of illuminated night

And the stray ghosts dial the floor for an unseen ring
They are all beaten peasants to the ruling green king
Served coal for a meal by the one with diamond cheeks
They have been chasing her sparkles for endless weeks

All the remains of her dreams are scattered
In the ally ways that are full of tattered lies
And the windows are just shattered eyes
Between the cracks of the dried sludge and cement
And the concrete doesn’t keep a grudge or resent
For they all know who caused this low-life hassle
And they sit comfortably in their highrise castle

The prositutes receive a punishing lash
And the corner in the dark by the trash
Is full of sleeping and scavenging beetles
With broken goals and infected needles

The city is drowning with silt
And the pavement has no guilt
Being deconstructed and rebuilt
Forgetting to cleanse all of the the silty streams
Just like all of our once external dreams
Ending up in hollow cries and internal screams

Any futile attempt at individual art
Painted over like offensive graffiti
Dragging us back to the very start
Of being hopelessly born and needy
With some of us long dead and some still alive
Everyone is slaving and making honey for the bee hive

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