Hardly matters what morning,
they finally decide to deal,
when I’m still out of work here,
and truly ain’t looking either,
since no rent money,
is gonna be my landlord’s problem,
this month,
releasing mine, pal,
while readily fisting three meals,
along with two coffee breaks,
definitely let us remember union rules,
straddling these wild streets a piece,
over the next couple of hectic weeks,
until I get radically sick,
choking matches off in my mouth.
Alleys fashion a glorious series,
calmly sprinkled atop intricate textures,
of brilliantly maddening symphonies,
tossed about like rats, cans, and bottles,
exactly displaying one should never know,
why or how to sincerely care,
at least relayed from a newspaper,
barely made through stains and chews,
proposing under some kind of mass scratches,
voiced by embedded witnesses demanding authority,
bellowing stark concerns of assumed cooperation,
related to various examples and stages,
around systematically forged political upheaval,
because after all, empty buddies and vapid lovers,
you honestly voted in vast participation as I refused.
Sharwrong's Song 