at the summer camp for holy greek,
a few of the boys found themselves some trouble
and were taken before the altar to speak to the father
we approached timid, little
father lifted up his robe and told us boys to come underneath
we all huddled underneath his robe in silence and father told us
to repent, to never do it again, and we would be forgiven

this peace,
a woman who works at popeyes
takes the garbage to the street
with a hat and a plastic apron,
billowing graceless and spastic

find peace in the risings, a mercy
they tell me to get the fuck out
of the neighborhood, a mercy
peace sleeps on the train, peace is
face down, floating in still water

on some nights i know
a hate that wants to knife cops
parade in obscene hats, its ripping warrants
and booting your goddam toyota

hate that spits in the trumpet and
rattles the rain stick, misting the
red remains of bigots down on the world,
blowing up the fucks and fedoras
kicking a crust punk, a hippy and
bitches with shopping bags

hate that sends me to the rodeo
to punch the convicts and the judge,
your young man is bucking and
toppling the teacup, nailing your ass

a hate that lies in bed with a fever,
that has no relations of which to speak,
a hate with no one to turn off the light
or provide an ice pack, bowl of soup

can anybody help it,
bogue chitto and torn stocking

"i live in a high violent crime rated area"

the boys fade into scum,
it used to be just a game

but times is all pretend,

the cats suck chicken bones,
light flickers sick lemon drop

sing dead, go on back of the porch,
whatever it is, you can see it
flying on out of here,
ditching us both

i will never be cruel to you;

the color of god is Green,

but the space behind the yard
sings the songs that sing dead,

inside of me there are 

skittles, starbursts, sour patch watermelon,

iron bars and the ribs of sunk boats

pimp c says goodbye

pimp c says goodbye

pimp c says goodbye

i still dont think i could say

that moonless nights are the best

nights for watching the moon,

i would probably need a beer

but i can go fishing by myself

which is more than most can say

being happy is easy,

the hard part is deciding to be happy,

and how you want to go about

telling other people

to be happy

my dream is being old,

waking up early and

padding along the lane

who's gonna ridicule that?