on a gaudy neon street
not that i care at all
if only. i could. pack up my deck of cards, furry treats and get outta here. i need those long daytime moments, when the sun sears itself into your skin, you spend 4 hours thinking so damned hard, never stop for lunch or water, just sit transfixed on the one big question...why...and it applies to all.
i was never one to keep my hands clean. i don't do nailcare. i don't do little plastic fancies at the tips. and how much more wrapped up do you have to be? the big red bow, the glittering sparklys, and pasted on smile.
i don't do dumb. i'm watching the little silly ball, shuffling under walnut shells, hands duping, cards popping, bills flying, knock down the stand and set it up somewhere else.
the list is getting longer, the nights are getting shorter. the years are whizzing by. and still i associate the mugshots with terribly sappy songs, the thiefs that took my precious time and never even said thank you.
if i had a six-shooter, if i had a time machine, if i had a little silly bomb, or a can of make believe cream...