Slag House
Basking in smut
Like a shot to the head,
Fingernails clean, doused in red
Rather you’d wage your war instead
Till every last one of your soldiers are dead.
But the well is dry
These children are high
Nobody here is afraid to die.
We scoff, we cough, we don’t even bet,
No need to make a game of drinking.
We’re professional dirt
Born into debt,
No sordid system could curb our thinking.
This nest is entwined with plastic straw,
I did my best with this haggard claw!
And though pride is a most tragic flaw,
I’d give my head to protect it all!
And so it goes,
Ignorance is best,
When mixed with honor
And bliss, I guess.
We dance and make such a peculiar mess,
Because less is more
More or less.
And don’t ever ask if I’m lonely.
Yes.
For I am a slag!
And this my house!
Only God can knock me out!
Purple mountains just don’t exist,
Kentucky blue grass exorcist.
I’m fucking faster than any fist
Could ever fight the match you missed.
You missed it.
You missed.
Class dismissed.
We’ve all dropped out anyway.
Basking in smut
Like a shot to the head.
I told you we had nothing.
Did you think we were bluffing?
We don’t even sleep
Out here on the skids,
We might as well not even have eyelids.
We are the creatures that God forgets
The very thing that life forbids,
You waged your war with late regrets
I’ll bury your arrogance with your kids.
(2013)
