new poem would love comments
My life is a horrible game show
Lately, life makes me feel
Like a white trash in hiding
Yes, when I run out of smokes
I dig thru the dirty filthy trash
I have worn shirts around the house
For more than a day
With remnants of lunch
I am gassy
I pick my nose
Sometimes I have to steal tampons
The worst is trying to steal dog food.
I’m waiting for someone to walk out
And say ok you’ve been on a game show
THIS IS ALL FAKE
You no longer have to scrounge couch cushion change
To get a caffeine fix
Your days of using cheap messy eyeliner are over
No more shall you eat stale peanut butter sandwiches
And drink watered down kool Aide.
No one has
Yet
I reuse tinfoil and baggies
And I really don’t think it has to do
With the recession
Tho, the “recession”
Is their terminology for what’s going on
All over the world
I call it the revolution
We have all been set free from
Comfort
If you can’t make it here
You’ve been faking all along anyways
on November 11th, 2009 at 6:35 pm
Debbie, I absolutely LOVE this piece.
Sums up the condition of the condition.
You nailed it, babe!
on November 18th, 2009 at 1:03 am
I like this one a lot…feels a helluva lot like my own current experience…except for the tampon stealin’….