In times like these
when nothing is longer shocking
than the president’s next tirade,
what more is there to write,
what more is there to speak of?
In such dire times as these
write more about love, it’s amazing, really
that love can exist,
in such dire times as these.
With
an
ear
to
the
ground
these
words
seem
futile,
consciousness
bludgeoned
by
the
American’s
perversion
of
freedom.
I
was
tired
angry
and
loony
for
love.
So
you
put
me
in
your
pocket.
While
Meatloaf
sang –
I
bet
you
do
that
to all
the
boys.
Staring
into
space —
born
is
another
babe —
daydreaming
alone.
Words Of An Average White Male 