Tag Archives: dollar

Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

No thanks, I’m not hungry.

There’s no one left lying on the second story floorboards
And I’m sure they heard next door, but the bottles are hollow now
And there’s room at the bottom and I would
Take it all back if I could, but I won’t!

~*~

There are rumours at the bottom of my bottle

And the windows are filled with hazy complaints

I’ve got a dollar and a nosebleed left in my pocket

Take a rocketship to the right and a bullet to left

Surrogate phantoms take their place in my head

Because the original ghosts left a long, long time ago

I don’t want to find it, so I lock it all up in my chest

My hands tied to the anchor, but they don’t need to know

There are starving liars at the bottom of the ocean

And the metal submarine has a growing hole on the floor

I’ve got a stick of gum and a bruise left in my pocket

Take the low blows when I go and the gunshot wounds to go.

~*~

Sit back, get my palette wet
Getting mentally prepared
For the consequences
And you know why
Because the neighbors
Have complained damn near every night…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Money For The Honey, Honey For The Money

You workin’ in bars, ridin’ in cars
Never gonna give it for free
Your apartment with a view on the finest avenue
Lookin’ at your beat on the street
You’re always pushin’, shovin’, satisfied with nothing
You bitch, you must be gettin’ old…

~*~

Hear it talk, money’s got mouth, and baby it’s damn dirty

Got the million dollar tongue moving up and down to serve me

Drop the nickel down the drain, don’ worry, I’ll make it rain

Get your kicks at the bottomline and squeeze me ’til I’m drained

.

I may have a silver mansion, but you’ve got them golden fingers

Expensive aftershave may stick for a while, but cheap perfume lingers

What would you do for a taste of the good life, a for bite of luxury?

Before you get to the forbidden apple, you gotta climb the tree

.

Business is goin’ slow but we’ll spend our time in lucrative ways

If I’m already standing at the finish line, then sweetheart it ain’t a race

I’ll buy you everything you want if you sell me the one thing I need

I swear it’s a fair trade, a hint of sweet is enough to staunch the greed

.

This aristocrat has got lands to rule, but I only need your territory

Let me conquer the unknown, tame the savage, satisfy my curiosity

I’m not payin’ to see the show, I’m payin’ to have it made and built

A smile and a signed contract, and I’m yours, and so is the wealth

.

It’s a bit of a cheapshot, I know, but it’s rather rich, coming from me

‘Cause I already have a sturdy shelf, and all I’m missing is a shiny trophy

But oh no no, we don’t gotta shake hands, only bodies to seal the deal

What d’you do for money, honey? Let’s sell out free dignity for valuable thrills.

~*~

So stop your life on the road
All your diggin’ for gold
You make me wonder
Yes I wonder, I wonder
Honey, what do you do for money
Honey, what do you do for money
Where do you get your kicks?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry