This place is so fucking dead

Hobo hats hang on soda bottles,
Next to the hall where senators laugh,
As they torture hired clowns,
Giving them poison baths.

We see citizens running in circles,
Chasing each other around,
Wanting one of their own for a pet,
Trying to tie each other down.

And me with my soul so big,
It doesn’t fit inside my skin.
It leaks onto the folks around me,
I’m not able to keep it in.

And you with your thin little frame,
And your curly hair so long.
You try to fly, but you’re held down,
Your fears are much too strong.

In the town we used to call home,
The robins awake at noon.
The stars hang out ‘till lunchtime.
Christmas lights come down in June.

Some pirate missing an eyeball,
Offers me his pants.
He says he doesn’t need them,
He doesn’t believe in romance.

A student strums his guitar,
On the doorstep down below.
Until I hit him with a handful of pennies,
I throw from my window.

A prostitute breaks into my bathroom,
Uses my comb to brush her teeth.
No ambulance is willing to come help her,
And she dies, unable to breathe.

I see in my dreams endless desert,
Where not even weeds dare to grow.
The prisoners all get sent here,
Instead of death row.

Some students outside carry signs,
Saying they’re protesting pie.
Bakers come out of their bakeries,
And I can tell someone is going to die.

You say you want to stop the time,
You wish never to grow old.
I say I want to stop the grime,
I wish to never grow mold.

All the dirty deals are made,
In a museum honoring the past.
Cows witness them from a pasture,
Chewing on the dead grass.

The painters are rebelling.
They drag their brushes across the town.
One got on the roof of my truck,
And painted me a clown.

I only want to watch things,
There’s nobody I want to be.
You can if you must, however,
I’d rather no one speak to me.






Maybe I should spend time in the poetry forum... ahaha... but I don't want to hear what the poetry kids think of my stuff... I want to hear what you kids think of my stuff.

 

Ðöñ'† vvörrÿ, Î'm þå©k. Î'££ £îvëñ î† üÞ ƒör ÿöü :

 

katie i dont care the quiz to the section w ont work msn :X

 

Quiz to what section?

 

are you making fun of me

 

.......!!!

 

Katie, you're a writer and you know it... you've definitely got something...maybe its that big soul hehehe

 

Katie should write lesbian erotica.

 

Thanks.

I do.

 

kaaaaaaaaaatie!!!!! what the shit?!?!?!? i fucking love you!!!!

 

Clown pornography.

 

pass it this way...NOW.

 

Righty ho, marisa.

 

Clowns scare me.

 

I have an oil pastel I did of a clown... I call it "Psychedelic Bozo"

 

i like hobo's...i think i shall doa hobo line art...

 

HI-JACKING!!!



makes me wonder why he is sad...

 

heh...

 

he's got a big mouth...

 

I did this a few years ago