Broke and in Need of Butts

Breast pocket piggy bank,
Out of smokes and he damn near chokes.
Don’t you folks see the gravity?
Down town to feed modestly off the tragedy-
Blues funk junky play a hollow melody,
Yelling, “Don’t make fun of me!”
We’re ten-feet deep,
A golden heap of litter-
Airy movements to ignore the way we smell.
Don’t tell Mama,
There are no eyes here for her drama.
Let the chickie dance,
It’s her one last chance to throw down.
Pray to God we don’t drown in feasting waves,
Don’t behave for my sake, baby-
I’m not that kind of kid who hid her eyes.
We’re all caught in disguise some time.

Breast pocket piggy bank,
Stucco mask hands over an empty.
Thrown on the ground,
I told you not to make one damned sound.
Wake the love before the doves fly…
We’re in it now.
Lazy and lost on the same road,
But no one ever told you how to hold nothing,
Live for nothing, but that spot in the sky.
Compromise to gain the fame of the timeless run,
Because she is insatiable for the fun her hun dished out.
No doubt he’s loosing the harmony.

Breast pocket piggy bank,
Don’t lie to me!
We have so much more to see before we leave.
Mama wouldn’t believe the law between these lines.
You don’t need to find them too far behind,
She begged to drop the trail of dimes.
“A chime to wake up,” and we’re there.
Impossible to get cold when you’re so far in.
Look left and see right-
Running with all our clothes, despite-
Get on your knees and pray for nothing.
We’re playing.
Wrapped up in you and someone must have a clue-
With no idea what to do
It’s all understood to be for the Greater Good.
Cigarette butts in the rug,
And with a shrug put on your grungy wear and scram.

Breast pocket piggy bank,
Coming up short every time-
Child, get in line for this routine.
And, his smoke provokes her.
She spoke and it broke the wall…
Bricks gone in the moment her eyes closed.
Wind, Wind.
Did blues boy find his blow?
Loose the control never gained,
An’ baby will feel no pain.
We win.

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