Goosemaster
Lifer
with a fresh stack of fruits in our minds we set out on our days
rotten peaches and rotten eggs do we face,
and yet we still smell of freshness
evil men and evil women smell us from leagues away,
and yet we head straight for them
striving to constantly fend off embittered acids and glucose-ridden nightmares is how we spend our days and yet we care to see no end in site
lousy poems and fruitless letters are where we hide at night, a paperthin refuge, a momentary reprieve, from these bombadiring masses
and in the end, whether we rot and die or whether we still smell of our youth,
we still give fruit....
rotten peaches and rotten eggs do we face,
and yet we still smell of freshness
evil men and evil women smell us from leagues away,
and yet we head straight for them
striving to constantly fend off embittered acids and glucose-ridden nightmares is how we spend our days and yet we care to see no end in site
lousy poems and fruitless letters are where we hide at night, a paperthin refuge, a momentary reprieve, from these bombadiring masses
and in the end, whether we rot and die or whether we still smell of our youth,
we still give fruit....
