The Modern people come at me everyday about racism and fascism
and i’m working with muddied memories trying to remember people like my Grandfather who fought so hard to live while bums on the streets of Hollywood much younger tried hard to throw their lives away as i puked into the gutter and had to fight myself off from whipping their sorry asses.
I fight to remember my dead dad and what he taught me at the quiet table of beers and rainy days
i fight to remember my dog before she was hit by that car
and I struggle to remember the blind kitten that God cursed.
I fight to remember my friends and how to help them
I struggle to make time slow down
I fight against everyone’s love for ugly things
I am fighting to hold on to something other than these black spirits that go flying around my room
so if you talk to me about Trump, tennis shoes, Golf, sports, and parades, forgive me if i look at you like a dog shown a card trick…
I’m lost in this world full of dead Originals
that i never had a chance to make peace with in the past
for I was much too young
to really know the kind of flowers i stood before…
Most of my dead best friends never even knew what hit ’em, it hit ’em so Hard.
and i don’t wanna leave without
the blood and friendships that counted
more than clickbait and hype.