i hate money
i hate work
i hate hate
(bad blood is
such a mistake)
there's layers
and fissures
deep illusions
internal logic of
dream delusions
it feels good
to wake up sore
no choice but get
back on that horse
promise to keep is
better than leisure
give me a day
on the couch
watch it turn
into a month
but task me a job
& time
dissolves
|
|
|
|
|