I hate being sober
I hate being drunk
I hate being captain
I hate being a punk
I hate going to bed
and I hate getting up
I hate the cold
and I hate the bright sun
I hate getting started,
I hate being done;
I hate being alive
but I'm sure death is worse
All human existence is simply a curse.
I hate being certain,
I hate being confused
It's too frickin' seldom I'm very amused
I hate being naked
I hate wearing clothes
I hate all this stuffed-up shit inside my nose
I hate having jobs
but I hate being broke;
It kills you to do nice things like drink and smoke.
So think, think, before you stop taking that pill!
Your offspring may not want to wait for your will.
Oh, I can't just write books, you say? I need to market myself, do I? Like I'm a hydrogenated snack unit, here to feedertain you? Well, fine, then, I'll quit throwing myself into traffic like a sensible person*, settle down, and waste good novel writing time TO DITHER ON A GODDAMN BLOG. *Ambiguity intentional
ok, so no one is going to read this. In my opinion, it's the funniest poem I'm capable of writing. I don't know what else I can do to get a readership so I'll have a beer to think it over and then blow off my head. If only I can work up the nerve. No; most likely I'll suffer another failure of a day. No, I'd rather drown myself.
ReplyDeleteAnn, are you there? Hope you didn't go through with it... the suicide, I mean; not the beer... I like your poem a lot.
ReplyDeleteI read your blog.
ReplyDeleteYou recorded a song in my basement, so we're kind of friends.
Write more stuff
You're a good writer.
thx
Chris "Basement Music Guy" Q