all the people I love are either dead or dying

these are my friends in a tent

rebuke the idol/idle

today I have a car, 

the car is my idol

for I am not idle. 

a woman is a woman
and a man is a man
but we both have hands to hold and to choke
and wring what will not love us back.

a woman is a woman
but she was once made from man
a little bone he could do without
carved with the precision of a voodoo doll
with a nose and eyes and breasts
to love and to do without.

a woman is a woman
and a man is a man
and they dream of houses and cigarettes,
of sex and blank-faced babies.

a man is a man
who dreads the morning crust
in the corners of her eyes
and the hollow breath caressing "good morning"
like she's never said it before.

a woman is a woman
and a man is a man
and a woman is a woman
who knows she is without hope
and a man is a man.

al gore

How do you feel

I for one

For two

For three

Would like to harm you so gross

Make love to morose

And privy my thoughts to a ghost.

I purged the blood from my throat

And prayed not to choke

But the thought rang out like a toast

High and mighty my dear,

Assert to my fear

And vile so vile my truth

They think I’m sad

But I pray I’m just mad

Oh wouldn’t that be so uncouth?

My head is the maker,

lungs surely the breaker,

of what I can hear but not see

if I let it prolong, 

or end it so wrong,

then all of you voices be free 

but maybe not

fuck you