Charcoal Filtered Dreams

DAMN! I shout
screaming vengeance, hostile
in some mad foreign tone
no other human can understand
in the shrill chill of a kill me thrill
cold wind, deadly wind
burning to the midnight with a Kevorkian grin
stumbling to stand
another night with too much to drink
another night that hurts to think
where am I going to sleep?
when I can’t even muster the memory of remembering where I live
and then there’s that hideous ringing of that hideous bitch
telling me that I have some sort of demented problem
‘fuck you’ I told her as I slapped my dick against her forehead
dancing around, naked, in some ancient Nordic cock dancing fetish
she mumbles words from her cum soaked mouth
about what if her daddy finds out
and her mom, president of California’s Lesbian Coalition Force
‘Fuck her’ I slur, as I steal her dog and take off in her 1985 station wagon
which ended up at Bob’s Used Cars in Chula Vista
I pawned the ring she gave me
and bought a bottle of Old English
reading the label about charcoal filtered beer
and that’s where I am right now… living in charcoal filtered dreams
Yeah bitch!