bugs scrapers on broad
i got no direction to step but forward
to become the most reasonable speech writer
in a three block radius

i got stuck in a flower shop
with a french sax junky and a milky-eye bum
good rolls but no balls, for the kryptonite cheers,
honey, i got the bears, but they're dead, already

it's only eight, on a saturday

who doesn't have stomach problems
me, for example, i got problems i can't stomach
because the face i see, is the face that i am just barely ready
to be, and i'm fucking anxious

so take your jaws out of my neck vein, dogs,
i got meetings, and feedings, and dry-cleaned overalls
waiting for a time i'm ready to set this side of town free
but wait, i haven't scraped the roaches from my teeth