An apartment/department story

storage compartment, just under the drawer--take it. Its responsibility and guilt

I've got a stomach

that's not doing it's job 

because I failed to feed it

Acid turning, rather than dropping a needle

record plays in skips, and I need it

I'm watching re-runs because I forgot to read

and rewatch it

stuck in my office

hiding from everyone 

and wanting someone to notice

how I want someone to talk to

There isn't much in telling how the hours tick, tick, tick on by

and all along I play, I cheat, I lie

when honestly, there's honesty written in my hair grown too long

mustaches I must ask this

what truly lies behind barber

barbed in armor

pierced like a lip, a tongue, ears all wrung

red with rest straining at your eyes

it's just not there--rust and realizing

the feelings are an art of daring to care

slipping through like five minute oat meal

when really it was real--cashed out like poker chips and pawn shops

loan hobbyists, local sharks sniffing for green bloodflow

Talk is cheap

Hey he's a good guy

the phone rings every five minutes and everyone wants something up front

a question a task, forgotten in the interview, but too late to ask

A concert, a show, put it on like a punk rock circus

fans screaming and staff treating it worse than a shoe too small

un-der tow

mistletoe

pulled like a cigarette dragged on nothing

but time idling by, three miles at a time

when there isn't a penny to my name

not even a dime

instead I'll just walk--I've been there before

with everything else acting like it's too big

pulled apart in every direction

at least its not so bad--choices are the price 

the cost of living