Don’t Feel too Bad for the Fading Beauties

Because you read poetry

And you’re not a psycho

You feel bad for

The fading lady

Whose sagging smile

Made every Hell

A Heaven for a while

Back in her day.

And you feel sad too

When you see the

Solitary stripper

Up there barely

Moving those hips

Because she doesn’t

Have health care

And because her

Aging ass only draws

Pity tips. Feel bad for

Them but not too bad.

You gotta know that

Both the lady and

The dancer spent

Their fresh

Hips and thighs

Smiles and breasts

On psychopathic

Pro-sports fans

Who

Made

Rapist dog

Murderers

Into millionaires,

Rarely if ever

Tipped anybody,

And never

Read poetry.

 

— FB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another

Another day

That started

Too early

And ended

Too late

Another 24

Closer to

The ultimate

Fate

Another open-

Eyed opossum

Dead in the road

As the procession

Of scum

Drives by

Another punk

With nothing

Better to do than

Throw M80s

At frogs and

Other buddhas

Too enlightened

Now to ever

Come back

Another high

School teacher

 And her class

Disecting some

Defenseless

Peaceful creature

Or other

Another splitting

Skull ache

And aching back

As the carnival

Of ugly pain

Sets it’s tents

And bloody

Banners

Ever higher

Into the sky

Long empty

Of gods and

Goddesses

Who might

Be willing

Or able

To supply

A reason why

So sling me

Another

Over this bar

As the sad,

Ageing,

And less-than-

Stellar girls

Dance. Some

Had the magic

Healing power

Once upon a

Time but

Wasted it

On the

Cruel and

Worthless.

Knowing

That helps

Me curb my

Natural sense

Of sympathy

So I’m not

Tempted to

Tip them

Too much

 

— FB