Tonight, I ride out
Destroy everything ugly and cruel in the world.
You could find maturity,
among the laughing hyenas, and nodding dogs
and resist the urge to drill down, bore down into this shit.
Move across the surface like a raconteur
And wonder the backstreets at four in the morning, giving
flowers to prostitutes.
Is it a talent for derision that fucks you over?
Whatever, I’ll keep the illusion that my lady love is watching all this from somewhere
when I’m out there, headhunting, gladhandling, feeling the click of a heartbeat in
every wrist I touch.