a writer

i write lines…dialogue overheard in diners between old Jews and young Turks…bars where working class heroes down shots to forget about an easier life they never had…in churches with Mexicans sending prayers to a god who might be listening(the jury’s still out)….

in bed with a page lit of blue…these thoughts are scribed… prejudices…classes divided…guys with the upper-hand…never reaching down…whores who walk Grand Avenue…always looking to score…as they do in New York…Los Angeles..St.Louis…a habit is a habit is a habit and that ain’t goin’ away…young girls turned into skeletons by the age of 23…

and pastors that punish in homeless shelters…you don’t worship Christ…no bed for you…soup-lines in the cold with bellies in-need of a fill…a buttered roll will do…a cup of joe…

psych-wards in New Haven…Iowa…New York…Kentucky…St. Louis…and all points east…the mentally-ill… criminally insane…a depressed divorcee…hyper-active kids…junkies…crackheads…speed-freaks…all tossed in the same tub…somewhat scrubbed and sent back out…to start all over again…as easy as 1..2..3..keep turnin’ beds…turnin’beds…

i write about the America of now and the one that never was…myths are to be revealed…lessons from a past not so shining… just keeps on fading into night…where wolves howl on prairies and cops kill blacks and blacks kill cops and nothing is learned…nothing is taught…a guessing-game gone awry…with winners and losers…nothing in-between…chalk it up as a loss…

so now turn in your hymnal to page 118…an all-time favorite of the Bush family…Obama…the Clintons…Nixon…the unofficial anthem of a country found upon religious freedoms…where all men are created equal…Amazing Grace…Amazing grace…how sweet the sound…that saved…

you’ll never save this wretch…the deal is done…i will write… that is my salvation…

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