Listerane

Listerane

By S.E. Erwin, 2015

With an all-star pitcher's wind-up

I threw it all to hell.

I'm still alive, and that's all I mean

When I say I'm doing well.

Cakewalk Kitty is prancing slow

Right through the center of town,

And a thousand popping pill bottles

Surround her feet along the ground.

She had a tear in her front pocket

With a book of thoughts inside,

And she had the nerve to tell me

That both God and Disney lied.

Her fingers touched piano keys

With grace and sweet finesse,

But her fist unhinged my jaw

The time I asked to hear the rest.

I've waited my whole life to find

A girl as angry and bitter as me,

But like healthcare in America

Her love don't come for free.

She says:

"I asked to be shown the meaning of enlightenment,

And I was given LSD.

I asked to be shown the meaning of true love,

And I was given Listerine."

She says:

"This fair trade coffee just gives me the shits

I can't stand these twits who think buying more shit's

Gonna lend a hand to helping save the world 

While I'm lying in the gutter and my body is curled

Around the wound in my bank account.

I can't stanch the bleeding long enough to get out.

No reason to adapt to smarter living,

Because I've stumped E-Harmony's algorithm.

"They want to keep us up in the bars all night.

No threat of revolution: Too hung-over to fight.

We're committing suicide through recreation;

Living blind in a world of cyber-creation.

But I've seen beauty--It's not what they're selling!

I know a few things--That's not truth they're telling!

Packed fake "happiness" into a little white pill,

But I won't swallow what doesn't feel real!"

I asked to be shown the meaning of enlightenment...

And I was given LSD.

I asked to be shown the meaning of true love...

And I was given Listerine.

Westlake, Part I

Westlake, Part I

by S.E. Erwin & C. Baird, 2015

 It's hardly a crime

To feel alone all the time

And start measuring life

In cigarettes and wine.

I need to know things are going to be normal again.

I need to know everything's gonna be okay,

That you've grown stronger through this unholy load

Of shit the world has just sent your way.

This I thought as I held your cold hand,

So scared because your face was so gray.

The doctors say that you are resting now,

So this I thought, but I did not say.

 It's hardly a crime

To feel alone all the time

And start measuring life

In cigarettes and wine.

From the phone in the waiting room I placed a call,

Asking Peter at the switchboard to put me through.

"Is the big guy around? It's kind of important..."

"It's awful busy up here... we'll get back to you..."

When the message comes, they know where to find me:

Beside your bed, pointlessly smoothing your hair,

Drinking bad coffee (three sugars, no cream),

And wishing I was stronger than what landed you there.