Ramblin'

Been writing crap

about

love

loss

pain

the evils of

the system

crap

crap

crap

can't seem to find

my place

can't write witty shit

like

"I saw Jesus eating sushi at the sea of Galalei"

or "illusions dellusions - can I get another

beer, man?"

got no niche

no audience

keep on boring

those fuckers at the Jam

I know the words are down deep

but I can't get the

cellar door open

“do some herb man”

yeah

not enough for the snack attack

just some to

grease the hinges

swing the door

open wide

and

write

write

write

write about societies creeping evils

the chicken shit

things people do

because they don't

want to face

themselves

But I got

no herbal remedies

so I

go to the

coffee company

for inspiration

sit around on

saturday nights

listenin' to the coffee jerk

preach the word of the blue collar man

Amen, brother!

I lose myself in

his words

voice

like honey

sticks to me

follows me home

no winnie the pooh stories tonight preacher man?

He talks about sex

doin it for the

hell of it

because it’s there

because it’s

something to

do

preacher man, you pay the piper yet?

we all do somehow

we get marked

by age or

babies

or V.D.

maybe

cold sores in the wrong places

still can't

help wondering

does he bite

or

does he scratch

does he make love in a fury

or talk dirty

is there passion

in his eyes

or

is he cold

like me?

I ought to charge for it

twenty bucks babe and you can fuck

me until I can't

sit down

I don't crave sex

I'm a

touch

junkie

need to cling

sink my teeth

into skin

and

crawl into ribs

curl up

and hide there

safe inside someone else.

-J. Anne Allphin