compensation
the soundtrack in my head keeps playing cage
the elephant's time flies, nasally ringtone that reminds me
like so much does today, there is something i keep
forgetting to do and it's a distracting thought that recurs
about every fifteen minutes when i'm not at work, where the craving
has been tamed to the bell but still
permeates and persists in an intimate layer
surrounding the meted out minutes, which mean so much less
to me now i'm not using. in the morning i pass
butts stubbed into sand filled pie pans, risen up
like skeletons on rapture and i know by the afternoon
they will be my promised land. if i don't buy them
i'm not smoking. e cigs are not very enjoyable
i'd almost rather not have that nico delivery system
but it helps in the really desperate times when
there's coffee and a book in my car , my will has
not been tested by the morning's round of drama
piled upon by lunchtime's requisite buzz drizzled
with a tincture of rework paranoia will this job never be done
kinda looming at the end of the day, ten minutes before
most of the kids leave for home, unless they're in the special class
that'll let them work some overtime babee, wanting to avoid the final
failure of the day, let it rest in the inbox with last week's problem
children, save them for tomorrow la la la.
()***
so you kick habits
with a vengenance, the cling of ritual
the ring of virtual. only by denying
all that made you yourself can you hope
to be reborn in untainted flesh.
look man. i , i founded this god dam country
how can you kick me out like this? you owe me.
we owe a lot of people, that's not the issue. the truth is
you've worn out your welcome. people are looking for better things
to be addicted to. there's really no cache surrounding
you anymore . or let me put it this way, that cache
stinks like an unwashed ashtray.
ok fine, have it your way. you're such a cliche
i can't see why i stayed with you so long anyway.
i'm just going on over to the third world
they know how to treat an addiction.
^^^^909090))))
()()((((
isn't it nice that she called you just when
my support for you is on the wane just when
i have seen enough of your crazy brand
to spin the bottle, play truth or dare.
()*>>>>>
ostrich feathers line the desire
it stretches and bobs, a woman in a sari
a jug on her head. i keep thinking there's food
in the oven or a cookie in the jar
i remember you went for fish and chips
in oldsmar. or dale mabry. i can't recall the closer.
i had hoped for cleaner lungs, less snoring
but a cold has gripped them, wrenching clods
of tar from alveoli and tree roots so tiny
even worms don't detect them.
what will my newfound health afford me?
years of watching lust disentigrate to love devolve
to tolerance and strained waiting.
oh my god. wo man.
why is everything now couched this way
and always and forever couched this way as if love
had any relation to time whatsoever.
and lust, well lust
is malt vinegar and salt
on the fish, tequila in the glass.
xo
the elephant's time flies, nasally ringtone that reminds me
like so much does today, there is something i keep
forgetting to do and it's a distracting thought that recurs
about every fifteen minutes when i'm not at work, where the craving
has been tamed to the bell but still
permeates and persists in an intimate layer
surrounding the meted out minutes, which mean so much less
to me now i'm not using. in the morning i pass
butts stubbed into sand filled pie pans, risen up
like skeletons on rapture and i know by the afternoon
they will be my promised land. if i don't buy them
i'm not smoking. e cigs are not very enjoyable
i'd almost rather not have that nico delivery system
but it helps in the really desperate times when
there's coffee and a book in my car , my will has
not been tested by the morning's round of drama
piled upon by lunchtime's requisite buzz drizzled
with a tincture of rework paranoia will this job never be done
kinda looming at the end of the day, ten minutes before
most of the kids leave for home, unless they're in the special class
that'll let them work some overtime babee, wanting to avoid the final
failure of the day, let it rest in the inbox with last week's problem
children, save them for tomorrow la la la.
()***
so you kick habits
with a vengenance, the cling of ritual
the ring of virtual. only by denying
all that made you yourself can you hope
to be reborn in untainted flesh.
look man. i , i founded this god dam country
how can you kick me out like this? you owe me.
we owe a lot of people, that's not the issue. the truth is
you've worn out your welcome. people are looking for better things
to be addicted to. there's really no cache surrounding
you anymore . or let me put it this way, that cache
stinks like an unwashed ashtray.
ok fine, have it your way. you're such a cliche
i can't see why i stayed with you so long anyway.
i'm just going on over to the third world
they know how to treat an addiction.
^^^^909090))))
()()((((
isn't it nice that she called you just when
my support for you is on the wane just when
i have seen enough of your crazy brand
to spin the bottle, play truth or dare.
()*>>>>>
ostrich feathers line the desire
it stretches and bobs, a woman in a sari
a jug on her head. i keep thinking there's food
in the oven or a cookie in the jar
i remember you went for fish and chips
in oldsmar. or dale mabry. i can't recall the closer.
i had hoped for cleaner lungs, less snoring
but a cold has gripped them, wrenching clods
of tar from alveoli and tree roots so tiny
even worms don't detect them.
what will my newfound health afford me?
years of watching lust disentigrate to love devolve
to tolerance and strained waiting.
oh my god. wo man.
why is everything now couched this way
and always and forever couched this way as if love
had any relation to time whatsoever.
and lust, well lust
is malt vinegar and salt
on the fish, tequila in the glass.
xo
posted by hiccup at 5:24 PM
2 Comments:
I've been thinking about trying the e-cigs, the ones with real nicotine in them... but maybe I won't. Maybe you saved me the money and bother. Maybe technology still hasn't improved on the nicotine delivery system that also tars up the lungs. Funny how that works.
I almost quit a few times this year, but not quite, so I don't know how "almost" it really was, actually. I delude myself about how I'm not as addicted as I am to that dumb fucking drug, I've never really not smoked for more than a few weeks at a time since I really started. But I could if I really wanted it enough, maybe I'm getting to that point.
I also relate to feelings of disillusionment, or dissatisfaction after a stint of following the direction of healthy and spiritual guidance. I tell myself, I gotta keep trusting the Good Orderly Direction, even if it doesn't always seem to be working.
In a very twisted way I do trust that entity, becausE, wink, that's me n e way.an addict...to life of all things, and on y the micro scale, to nicotine.
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