THE princess and the Popper

Bereft of my sleeping aids, I sonambulate. Straighten this picture, flush this toilet, total this thirty rack.

Flush with this hand, spread your grip and grasp. Stack chips like stock brokers used to. Take stock. Brokers. Battle for my job pushing that rented Beamer to the drivethru for a four piece tender, Rodeo Cheeseburger and an application.

Pack a lip. Smoke a butt and breathe deep. Exasperated with exhalation. You got rich and got broke. You've been broke and still are. Still rich and not tryin. Get broke and die happy. Counting friends on one hand, and tabulating the tip on the other. 20 percent on beer and boneless wings. Adding your phone number to the customer copy.

You drove juiced and avoid a dewey cause you picked the cops badge up off the bartopp before last call. You dump the rental into the trees fuckin with the steering wheel cause you didnt know that new cars with new radios have alternate volume controls. You killed the backseat passenger and walked away. They copped a broken neck and you broke your Ipod.

You got nothing to play for my eulogy even though you had the best song. Three chords to sum up a sub par performance. I had a bachelors, and you've mastered denial.

EMpTY billfolds flop credit cards
emPtying futures in the bar
sink cleaning classes like clocks tick
Talk floats and they know
You're broke and keeping up
appearances with stained power ties
and overindulgence.