Their minds are cooked

theres no flavor they can savor

spend their days zoned out

lost, waiting for a savior

to pave streets with gold

buy souls

to hedge the next round

pawn takes the queen

while the court stands around

and the king drowns in oil

counting spoils from the east

as the jester slaps the messenger

and eats before the feast

and the beauty and the beast

are dancing circles around the rook

and the bishop prays for mercy

and the knight burns the book

and it looks like game is over

four leaf clover

Lady Luck

and the Devils in the cafe

selling details for a buck

and coffee black

and stack the deck

the game is rigged

the Kings alive

and the devil climbs up front,

slits your throat

and starts to drive

and nine-to-five

and running late


they cracked the code

they will find you

in the morning

in the middle of the road

and the preacher lady says a prayer

for pawns all left for dead

she’ll scratch the itch

to eat the rich

when they take all her bread

and dead men tell no tales

and sales leave money spent

and rent is due

and horse is glue

no businessmen repent

and heaven-sent the queen returns

to cheers and jeers and song

she’s headed for the pawnshop

with an empire to pawn

at dawn returns the muse

confuse the subjects, all

the queen laughs last

shadows she casts

after her curtain call

and all in all

and it’s all over

four leaf clover

wilting fast

we’re all born

and we all die

and nothing ever lasts

and fast

the game is done

the sun sets on the throne

the queen cries to the jester

who is laughing on the phone

and dial tones

and loans

and groans

and scones

and apple pie

and we’re not busy being born

so busy now, we die

About soitgoes1984

I was born and raised on land stolen from the Pocumtuc. I now live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean, on land that was stolen more recently, from the Hawaiians. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.