The end is near

it calls me. I am afraid to own a gun.

Death calls

too soon


the caress of a bullet in the brain

the ultimate Fuck You.

Fuck You

I don’t want to play any more.

There is no body here worth staying around for

Fuck You

Work is not bad

It’s the free time that sucks

it’s mixing with the zombies

listening to their moronic chatter

of mindless pleasantries

Fuck You

its living life that sucks, breaking promises and lieing to yourself

it’s compromising

it’s giving in

it’s selling

it’s buying

it’s having to take a shit, having to eat, running out of breath

living in a trailer park for $250 a month

being invited to party

the owner wants us all to be a family

Fuck You, I pay you rent I don’t want to be your friend.

It’s having to share the laundry room with lunatics

It’s sitting next to a militant lesbian, that acts like a caricature of a man

It’s having to wait for everyone else to die before you can have a place at the table of plenty

It’s finding out that the plenty is just plenty of shit

It’s watching a pretty girl drink tequila and smile

It’s holding a 9 mm Rugger with a full clip and the safety off

it’s a mess

blood and brains and bone, shit, piss and snot

who’s gonna cleanup this mess