some days will test your ability to fake a smile
when even the roaches on the footsteps to your place
don't feel the need to run away when chased
by a man intent on killing roaches

rain waits for you to step outside
and walk just far enough into the scattering roach mob
before it unleashes with the ferocity of a ferret in a bathtub
leaving no part of you dry except the outlook of your future sexual relations

it's not like you have reasons to complain
so when you wish to complain you have to fabricate reasons
hunting for meaning in the age of american idol is out of season
so every pain you feel has to result in some orifice bruising or bleeding

and then there are the roses outside your apartment building
that somehow no one in this dirty ass city has cared to piss on
or maybe those roses have been blooming amidst a urine storm so long
that they don't know about peaceful living, but elect to live on anyway