Glue sniffers and the ick don't stick click

They glue sniffers are looked on with eyes of contempt
They can't bath and they can't read
Petrol and glue is their need
Down the back alley where pigeons feed

Flash jackets with good intentions that ridicule good intentions walk by
They have pomp and wit and several strategies for décor enhancement
They purvey as if to sell a message until they reach the wretches
Voiceless the smells and sights shock them out of criticizing

One of the glue sniffer kids wheezes on the fumes
the flash jacket get a whiff of my CK scents turns his face in disgust
One of the older glue heads thinks about robbing them
But heels that would sell souls to please the elite start clicking

The flash jackets hold their breaths as the glue sniffers argue and whistle
briskly the flash jackets reach their café of the all knowing contemporary standard
safely and soundly they begin to make the transformation
back to sipping overpriced coffee and judging and complaining about the rest of their flash friends

To think a thought

I was just being me when
bam something came into my head
it was a thought,
Oh my I am thinking a thought

What is this thought, my brain says to itself,
what is this distraction?
where is it going?
far far from reality, oh my.

To teach us forests are ugly

The hundreds of children
wanting fresh air and good advice
love and things to do
Forgotten books

Born to correct sitting in their circles
humbled by themselves
 draw them to the sun
 stop them from going to the forest

There is no magic book
no one real answer
we can't well count the blades of grass or leaves of trees
SO look away from them, look away

For from the rooms they were shunned
 from the door way awaited to leave
and into the forest the children go
out of control and against orders

curiosity is a mad horse
for the forest is not a tree filled shaded garden
It is the edge of the city full of littered bushes
It is where the plastic bags and dubious business is done

I try to call them out of the forest
into the sun they go to be born again far from the freak show
Their parents biggest sin was to desecrate such a wondrous place
the children learn in the sunshine on the grass not tempted by messy lies

religious complaint

 work on that complaint
stretch it out so the world can fit inside the thing
ruined offerings rot in the early dry spring
Trip me up rubbish for hell gain

 grievances like tadpoles becoming dragons
  rumors faithful to the leaches
 devour hearts, fantasy has a science
colleagues have alliances

Beliefs fuel action, puppeteers
 believe them so convincing bust
 like broken records, we blindly walk
 believe they preach

 know of the beyond

 symbols fantasy truths con-artists at work
Hussle me hussle you
make us unworthy of even gratitude

God's very currency,
lie sewn together with a few half truths

Just a layer in a city sandwich

Here's a splendid quote from wondrous times past by, one you could paint
up the side of your super poo shooter of a boat
Life's a shit sandwich are served very well?
Served well as if I had shit to go around! Big eyes attract people's own destruction no dead rooster is going to give others what's mine.

No curses but these pretentious outbursts from people in this dirty city

As if I got there conduct on my chest sharp wits instead of this blunt tongue
Politeness eyes not on breasts I guess the game is at its best when we
pretend etiquette before we shamelessly bite
Don't offer if it's got to go down your food pipe

Seize the day and the half dead mooses shithole
A hunter in the country that's how we've been trained
And drink yourself into morning anxiety prematurely celebrating
The lack of a fuck I could give shines luxuriously at 6am
better pep that grain dreamer no pain no gain between the slices just pure shit bitch!

The best day in any cocky wide-smiling power hungry managers life
is when he fires you, he loves it!
When those words pass those lips, fantasies are now becoming reality
it's like the guy no one liked just got layed today and emptied full capacity on unwanting ears
Management creates the crisis it's an unstable world Mcdonalds doesn't do the dishes.

Yes right up that cockroller of a boat everyone would give their left testy to own
and lifes a shit sandwich so make bank because through the eyes of the world
you are a useless piece of nothing without your gold your stock or your green
contempt from women, ridicule from peers if you don't make bank you might as well wank yourself to death dreamer forget child labour and get some young wings and wongs to replace the seamstress

Yes form that lovely squeezer of a positive motto that washes your brain ceaselessly
That big lie or piece of the truth so small and irrelevant that its just big enough to fit into your ambitious bumhole thanks for playing.

Squabbles and Babbles

All judge
alone
Energy goes
jokes over

Grins grind
and swinging replies dive into ears not wanting to listen

headaches tear and paranoia glares
and glares behind tired eyes

Conversations were sent to you
squabbles and babbles on the bus
Tight chest and ringing ears
your just a sensitive fuss

The frontal lobe booms
No peace nor a friend
Pointless conversations and ridiculous puns
urinate all over the inner walls of the bus

Not a friend out there
Not one
Just a few people to let you know what you are not doing
Just a friendly reminder that you're not good enough nor worthy

and those spots in the darkness tear at me
the headache gets blinding
negative thinking could steal your mind
but you keep waking up

Queues and waiting rooms

Who is to blame for leaving us in the lurch
eyes swap faces each minute in a frustrated search
alas the culprits sit among us not as our boredom heightens to level grey
and find new ways to waste our time and save their money from honorary desks far away

Look around do we question ourselves what kind of trick would we play to go next?
Are we honest waiters or would we cut in line if undetected
Forget the others like smiling nobles only when accused quite surly
just to be attended a few minutes earlier?

And the room rolls over with complaint
nothing but pushing buttons on phones our touch screen saints
not to the rescue, a few hopefuls flirt and the rest resigned sigh deep
The security guards try to console the  waiters who have other places to be

To no avail as we all grow stale together waiting for our number
To resolve a problem we were there last week to fix yet here again ho hum
Oh bless these fidgeters and attempting go getters when will they ever fold
So we don't get our tax back and bureaucracy can swallow us whole

it seems we will drown before the governments stomach acids consume us