the bright sun
i strum
on the pedestal that seats the statue of garfield
and the angel holding the holly crown
skin crisping
the wind breezing down from the beach
forgetting that anything exists

i am eyes focused on my birthright
and i would kill a cow to make a burger
if i had to

through the window of a haight st.
coffee shop
the young things stream in
and by
in the hot
spring come early
sun
life is the smell of damp panties
and boys sitting to hide their obtrusive erections

we are naked in cotton
naked in synthetic polymer fancy fashioned loin cloths

find half a worm in your apple
at least you got the extra protein
bite off the other bite
cause every calorie counts
yea, life looks different when you're counting
calories like bus fare
making sure you have enough
and not crying because you wont stop eating
blaming the cheeseburger that got its friends
together and pried your mouth open
with its crowbar
so they could all hop in and down
your deep throat

add oil to the machine
america is a four barrel carburetor
a little mistuned

but heroin wont cook in
a disposable spoon

the bum he didn't buy it new
the paper cup he's shaking
got it used

taking the rise past the beat generation
taking it to the moon
blissing by losing concentration
the wallflower owns the flow
and the mood