waste the day.

there are six ways to waste the day
I’ll tell you five, but the sixth I can’t say
there is a way to show hereforth
the life is lived a litter course
and we adopt our own highway

I am sitting down by the pool
watching the heat cause drool
a sweat is beading on my needing
a relative moment of sun,
and one

frozen on the chair
and I am there

don’t care
cause I am frozen
on that chair

would go to my room,
but there’s no energy there,

california sun
kicking my butt,
which is not bare
but I am there.

down to four,
won’t tell the fifth
called Mary Jane
she woke and ripped

spending the sun
watching the days of our lives
and this is not lame, as we never blame
the young and the restless
until they are old and bored

I rang up Jill
she was in the gym
she took her pills
and did it all for him

I asked her no,
but no she listened
I have not bled
that I know what I know

its hard to be an actor
when you’re just trying to be a factor
and I’m to blame if my skin gets burned
I live in L.A., its what I’ve learned

turned. over and over.
as to not get burned.
in that chair.
its what I’ve learned.

rolling blackouts
but not on that chair.
and I am there.

now’s there three
no way to four
I decided I wouldn’t tell you
and closed the damn door

there’s more in store
than just being poor
and for number three
I surely pray,
you know the type that looks for jobs all day?

say, do you know the type?
the mighty, complaining acting ripe?
no job is the write job, for these folk
sending out resumes in first-class bulk

and try and try and never hear
"whats this gap in your resume here?"
and the jobs, that they diss,
are a symbol of their fear.

Do I even have to mention
my lonely cousin Rex?
All he wants is some attention
as he looks all day for sex

Yet,
I am on that chair
some screen from sun
and I am there
and move towards one.

Down to two,
might tell you three
and I’m doing one
write here for free

and silly tell you of writers long lost
as parents quickly pay the cost
and not to say that I am less
But many a spent hour,
on this whole writing mess,
and yet I must confess

to the lonely one,
but left, there’s two
(don’t you worry,
there’s more jobs for you)

(its true)

who sit alone
dont know where it goes
try hard to see,
but not to see its flows

(it grows)

go outside and feel the air
there’s so much going on out there,

down on down
to the forbidden one
I’d tell it to you
yet won’t spoil your fun.

I've danced through the streets
and let poetry greet
eaten nothing but meat
all sweet low-carb treats

I sat in a chair
lifting weights in the air
yet my ass wasn't bare
and I was there

there, I’m done.
I’ve said it.
you’ve read it.
now go get it...



©2001 by Yosh