BLEAK DAYS
I’m not making this up—
It’s always somebody else’s fault;
Wind blows like a growling pit bull.
Skies grow dark, my gums bleed
and teeth loosen up in my mouth
as puddles of pus fills up in my ears,
and blood drips out of my eyes and nose.
Hungry men are desperate men
who have been known to eat one another.
Tyranny is on the loose; police are outnumbered.
Eeney, meeny, miny mo, who will be the first to go?
Head south and look for another watering hole.
Even monkeys will sometimes share a banana
after you make friends with them.