THIS AIN'T CHCAGO, NEW YORK, LA, OR PODUNK

BROKE? GET PAID

Waging war

is a hell of a way

to get paid.
some folks

make it a war

just to get laid,

All of the wars we wage

set the stage for more rage

with color (except red), compassionate living

bled out of a world once full of it.

I don’t even wonder anymore

what a world would be like

if the waged war

was not constantly knocking

at the door of the collective brain;

or is it only in my little mind?

Don’t know anymore

the difference between wars,

drugs, class, ass, pain, power

so many more shit slinging wars.

Although I think of barely remembered hours

with no any kind of war, so very long ago

and I know it must be me

for there are more than a few

who see a world of beauty, harmony.

While I see strife, have for most of my life

but then no one ever said one has to be sane

to not want to play insane war games.

I’ll fight wars but no I’ll never fucking tell

which side of the war I fight for.

I have all the enemies I need.

Them that hate me for

my race,

          my drugs,

the beard on my face, my unmatchable hugs.

(come get yours now before I hide them)

Aww shit we are simply human

who will fight over everything,

We desire the sun in the middle of the night

want the moon at high noon

because contention is contentment to our soul, and war,

Goddamn war our roll.

Now tell me I’m all wrong about this war thing

and so much more to the table war brings

so we can start a new war.

Stupid shit abounds

there is always a new reason

for another ignorant ass war to be found.

© M Durfee

5.25.2014

DETROIT-A LONG WAY TO GO
My next door neighbor was about to have her water shut down, she immediately went and got her lawn blanket and gave the worker a show of that well used cooch, and though he stared for a while, he still unloaded his tool, not to be seduced by that pink slit surrounded by lumpy cheese thighs. Thinking fast she surmised that a plastic cup of strong hooch in his hand while looking at her saggy nipple puckered bags might just do the trick. Sure enough she bought some time with a show and he with some liquor to sip. He went away; that was the day before yesterday.

Then yesterday the dumpster arrived and the bailiff wasn’t falling for that old “show me some” trick. Court order in his hand, gun on his hip he put that nasty chick out of the house she wasn’t paying on. I wish I could say I was sorry for her dumb ass but personally I was glad she moved on—even if it was only four houses up the street where I don’t have to ever again see her spread her personality.

© M Durfee
5.25.2014