Fuck This and Fuck You

 Beaten piss dog alley way hosts the litter of the damned 
 Like candles in a study he’d’ve liked to have.
 Sundowning somewhere else makes a golden gray,
 looking down on the defeated by well worn paths
 carved into the city by man chasing Capital until
 he falls under the tires.

                         Your new sincerity tires us,
 makes us nauseous from lowered voices and looking
 passed the brows. No time for a quandary of “what
 it is to be a hero” or our side and his and the currency
 of metaphysics, like looking for heat in an ashtray.

 Nine times out of eleven the automatic pay drags 
 feet and the reminder that the chain has roots in the 
 fence shows it’s exhausted face, winks at you. Three
 tries to enter a password. Two days to submit the 
 correction forms. One god to which your grandmother 
 exposed her throat. I walked seven miles a day when
 I was down here and you’ll never find the same tracks.

 Went down to the gravel road and all I seen was that
 brown of grass that meets you in the middle and says
 the little league games tonight will be a wash and the
 gravel by the school lot is going to trouble you with it’s
 telling voice when Afton admits to lying for you.

                                                  God?
 Did anyone ever put two and two together and end up 
 with an insufferable many? Why, maybe the conjugal 
 bed only seemed to ask for Legion in the bigotry of the
 Blue Light! Maybe the swine, certainly not the pearls.

 Oof I’ve seemed to misplaced my intentions.
 It’s going to be quiet now, so…