Prozapped

 

 

a grease stained vagrant guards the underpass between I-4 and Fairbanks Avenue

his home is all the flotsam and jetsam can be fit into his stolen shopping cart

 

a cardboard sign gives blessings from a veteran to the passer’s by at rush hour

a bleach blonde in a beemer loosen a perfumed dollar from her bra strap

 

she drops it in a shaking sun burnt palm and speeding off as the light turns green

another 40 ounces of anesthesia delivered from the blessings of the U.M.C.

 

she drives away smiling at how her grace has touched another

the blessing passed discretely its amazing what a dollar can do

 

who says you can’t take it with you

who says you can’t take it with you

 

comfort of malt liquor draws him back with relief into the shadows

as the motor of the causeway is snuffed out for 12 more hours

 

Slicing through Utopia , you know the interstate is always droning

sleep eludes the evening as you drag yourself to another cure for the 90’s

 

(Yeah; I went to a shrink…)

 

Paxil takes the twitch away enough so you can go through the motions

the doctor says it goes with everything and you don’t get addicted

 

but the bottles gets empty and you have to go back for another

the insurance is good for treatment and it is only a 10.00 deductible

 

and you count the treatments until your insurance is exhausted

and you wonder why you’re shaking from the lack of your addiction

 

remembering what brought you there in the first place

the nightmares of crouching sleepless under the highway (or was it wishing that you could?)

 

and the thoughts that compel you to get up in the morning

drive you through the day in sanctum of suburban soliloquy

 

 

who says you don’t take it with you

who says you don’t take it with you

 

 

 

All images & songs © HC Videll