Two Weeks Notice

I turned in my two weeks notice after 2 and a half months. Two more weeks and it'll be a full 3 months as an underpaid salary man. I gave the notice to my manager. He was disappointed. We had a talk. He asked why and I said, "I want to pursue other things, like focusing on creating content or something." He asked if I was unhappy here or what could be better and what would it take for me to stay. I didn't say whether I was happy or not, nor what it would take, but I told him of what I think would improve the business.

An Aching Head

I cannot be bothered
My head is pounding
I had rum, soju and beer last night
And a plate of watermelon
I smoked a Cuban and a cigarette on the insistence of a friend
It was a menthol cigarette
My head is now in pain
I would promise my first born for it to go away
I would turn down a goddess to leave me be
I teased a kid for sounding like a robot
I told him he wouldn't pass the Turing test
And everything he said was exactly what a human imitating robot would say
He was a good kid with a head on his shoulder

American Scream

Never once did I believe in the American dream
For long I’ve heard the American scream
From even before my conception
From imagery of naked children fleeing from their burning village eviction
To this modern day
Of brown children torn and locked away

Oh, say, can’t you see?
This land is marred with misery
From the red blood of native genocide
With their land now bled white
To the blue, the tunes of a people shipped across the sea
Then held in bondage and slavery

Burn

Should we burn at both ends
Or like roman candles
Burn that midnight oil
Or burn daylight
Should we burn bridges when our ears are burning
Should we burn it in
Or burn with it
Should we burn the ones who’ve burned us at the stake
Or just burn them in effigy
Should we burn with a low blue flame when we’ve burned our fingers
Should we burn holes into our pockets for the ones we’re burning for
Should we keep that home fire burning
Or burn it down
Should we burn away until we’ve burned out

Paddy's

It was just passed midnight
I took a shot of cognac and grab my passport and money clip
I went down to Paddy's Irish Pub
I used to frequent it somewhat
It has since seen a lot of renovations
Most notably the newly added patio
I showed the door guy my passport and got in
The place was packed with youngins
College kids from the local college WNEU
Formerly known as WNEC
The kids, the boys, were all dressed in the same clothes
And baseball caps
They all smelled the same as well
I got to the bar and waited

The Man with the Horse

“F.ck!” he yelled in his head. With the sudden reacquisition of visual acuity, he was stirred and riled by the cracks of his broken phone screen that he'd been blankly staring at for some lapse of time, of which he cannot recall how long it’d been on account of how he'd broken his brain some time ago. This, triggered by the anagogical correlation between broken screens and broken brains, had sent him down a black but not bleak vortex of existential inquiries.

Mesquite Thorns

Under the thorns of a mesquite tree I dreamt of you again last night
But as always in my dreams
Your face was not the same
We were at the station
You were trying to get to your terminal
You were leaving me
And I was trying to stop you
As if I'd never confessed my love
I wanted to tell you
And your eyes wanted me to say it
You were beautiful
But for a moment when I grabbed you by the arm and you turned around
You had the most heinous face that I'd ever seen
I couldn't bring myself to saying it