red blooded slave ships
that was when we became bodies
she sat there and wished her name was shorter
and that it had less consonants
said
i should have gone when davina died
nothing left to love here anymore
counted from one to four
and walked to the door
if she hadn't a said it herself i wouldn't of believed she could
she didn’t feel left out she felt left in
there was a haze over hong kong
green water brought fog
almost all the news was bad
singapore fell
slow and sad
she saw 'yes i am an organ donor' tattooed on his chest
he was more committed than the rest
always has been
always will
in the night
air was still
and
you could hear the silence in the deep breaths of cut necks
terrible and mean and full of violence
the way the game is played today
i need a product
and to get it placed
doesn't even have to do what i say
just grow the brand stake the claim
for those of us who would be thieves
the thank you is part of the please
hand to mouth
feet to knees
no matter how careful one might be
getting caught is
the only part they’ll see
always on the horizon
no denying defying it
rely upon it
moving picture excitement
sparks enlistment
be more than who you are
no patriot-ism or altru-ism
no ism at all
just getting the hell out of town
picking ‘em up and putting ‘em down
faith hope and charity don't mean that much to me i'm leaning on loyalty
it was looking like put up or shut up but it was more like put up or die
when it's long
when the sunset sun
when the stares stop
and the diva is gone
to greece
to nice
or somewhere in between
terrible and mean and fucking full of violence
Tower
(Oil on Canvas 1984)
by Chuck Connelly
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