they talking to themselves?
they talking to you?
they talking to the sky?
they pass you by
you wonder why
do they live this lifestyle,
where they can’t wash filth clinging amongst pubic hairs on their muddy scalp,
no clothes to switch with these
shaggy overcoats,
no color just earth tones
toned by earth stone-stiff sidewalk cement they sleep on,
why do they
toilet plunge into addictions,
why do they want their arms harmed
vein bunkers punctured by needles so much like panicked ostriches need to stick their head in a hole so no one can see them
they snort like a hog
oink says the irritated nose as the pixies levy the fog,
rise like sun over a listlessly numb bog,

Now I’ll see somebody
powerwalk past me lookin’ta jump in a taxi
mouthing off, headstong
a forward march conversation,
that seems to be without
a partner,
they talking to the air?
they talking to you?
They talking all alone?
no, they talkin on their silly phone,
hair-hidden headset givin’ a dial tone,
and I’ll be the one to wonder why they live this lifestyle,
why don’t they wash that metallic robot gauze off their skin that’s suffocatin’ their body’s outer breathin’ and their eye’s inward seein’,
why don’t they ever switch that black business suit that’s shiny as their scrap metal hides and them ties that strangle like uniforms choke brides turn white from lack of circulation once the ring’s wrapped tight round their finger on their wedding day,
why do they
deprave themselves with this addiction to the green, green, the grassy paper, the rapier by which equality is slain, the money that stains their pockets like honey dripping from brains with one track neurons,
never turn back from their pursuit like a rocket honing on the capital,
mint press cloning more dollars every day but it keeps on doing less cuz nothing is like that first crisp bill makes ya holler
now they just go buy pills for the stress,
and am I the only one who wonders why they throw themselves into this mess?