maybe, I’ll quit the post office.
maybe, I’ll buy a camera.
maybe, I already did.
we are only imprisoned by ourselves,
humans slathering on misery
like shaving cream.
from the inside, I saw things
things I’ve never seen,
things I’d never imagined,
and I have to wonder if some people
are martyrs or just plain stupid.
it’s wage slavery at it’s best
or worst?
you tell me.
maybe, I’ll play the blues.
maybe, I already do.
maybe, I’ll write an award-winning novel
with a character named Spike,
who’s a mean son-of-bitch.
maybe, I already have.
maybe, I’ll do whatever it takes
to pay the bills and keep my sanity.
but you need time for that.
