Roadie-dom and the crawlspace

 The crawl space
The band is playing on the other side
Pop band quite narrow brained but rather wide
everyone knows them except those cynical

The popularity is incredible
And everybody wants to be a part
So duck under the entranceease into the panic
slide yourself between the floor and the granite

Where things stick just force it
pressed and bruised to fit
Like an item of ironed clothing
then get up on the other side

Jump once for joy
Clap to celebrate and revel
And join the rabble
Ignore the discomfort

Opiate sneeze
Look back at the crawl space
Your entry's unease
Wormy fall from grace

Living life was theirs

 I bought it for twenty thousand
Drove it for about an hour

The first problem was the steering wheel cover fell apart
And only the steel underneath remained

I kept driving changing gear, avoiding accidents
The road demanded all of my attention

The people talking around me distracted me
I thought I might crash from running off the road

Instead I drove down the road I was told there would be a mechanic on
But there was nothing down there just an abandoned farm

Years felt like seconds I got back into the van and yelled we need to get out of here
So each person got back into the beat up old minivan

I turned the key and gave a little juice
The fuel cable burst
There was oil leaking directly into the car

One of the uncles went to get help
While the rest of us stood on the side of the street where the lichee grow

He came back with an ice cream in his hand
I swore I could have murdered him right there and then

The minivan was as good as irrepairable
The money I spent stuck like a huge stinking shit on top of my head

The cavalier attitude of the family and friends bothered me to no end
The responsibility was mine, living life was theirs

The fever dream

 The revs blare on the soft highway
Years have passed

Much ashphalt under rubber
the wheel wells the seats

The endless surface
the smell of gas

the fever dream
Colors of another life interrupting

Imposing themselves into this one
Over the road inside the vehicle

The decade of the seventies gripping onto the eighties
A tiny grain of sugar atop the upholstery

Sparkling out to the child in the neighboring car
Unable to identify it

A dog's rug

 The dog Ribbons sucked the rug
His rug to be precise
He slobbered it 
Bit it and almost ingested it

Then he turned back to me
Like pay attention here you negligent owner
He bites again licks and licks
Slobbers 

This dog got the restless
the ghost fleas
The ripples and rapids of a dog dream
he turned back to me

feed me
talk to me
Mr Ribbons chewed the rugged
Then in succession fell asleep

Looking back on the eye

 Those eyes that look back
Those eyes that feel judged
On a body too big for its application
In an urgency not indicative of its nature

Eyes that look back
and at the last moment look away in fear
Fear of being seen through, evaluated and ridiculed
The pain inside the eye...                                         white hot, the iris scalding, pupil eternal

Those eyes that feel the weight of the observer
That absorbs the outward energies flung like impulive reactions
Sparks that land on the membrane of the turning blind eye

Housewife's life sentence

 She got stuck with the cars
She still keeps up with the trends
1950s sentiment reaching into her temples
Divine antiquated reverberation
Velvet blinders block observation

She turns the hand crank to get the motor started
The wheels go round and the things shudders
But inside it is broken and offensive
The outer paint is expensive

Her habits correspond with her personality
All purpose is simulation for most of us that is true
Illusions of control and age makes it all iffy
Wine to get the middle ground to squiffy

Father should we be less

 Father we always followed your goals
never creating our own
Humble and modest
Pathetic and rudderless

For what would we make of our own destinies
Should we squander our lives to make yours comfortable
Not reach too far for only you are allowed that privilege
Father should we be less and you be more?

Or you figured it out and we are still calculating
It comes easily doesn't it father
We just need to know not to sweat the small stuff
Get all the glory then summarize away

Should we not exaggerate the way you did?
Should we become clones for ambition
Are we deemed invalid without it
condemned to failure lest we follow your goals

That way we stay less and you become more
And when its our turn to win you simply check out
main thing is you get your part