it's sometimes not easy being rich when you go broke...but it's a little easier being broke when you've never been rich...it's all sometimes still a bitch!
walking through the Recoleta always depresses me.
for i feel the contrast between rich and poor bear down on me so heavily
and as I walk along
hungry
broke
i see the classy people
eating classy meals
in classy joints
and my hunger and frustrations grow
as I feel my ribs pressed hard against my skin.
i see the pretty ladies walking past me
and another kind of hunger grows,
this hunger too out of my reach
so neither can I satisfy
neither can I afford
it's cheaper to just vanish
or slip into the villas across the tracks
and mingle with the feeble minded,
the intellectually poor
yet I feel like my time is at hand
feel like glory is long overdue
feel like it's time I reap the seeds of genius I have sown
time to do away with the mediocre budget
my constant feeling of nutritional abandonment,
I'm feeling like the dawn of a new day is before me,
now
as gloom seems to want to swallow me up
and spit me out
into the same tomorrow.
Poetry by paul perry
Read 283 times
Written on 2010-02-08 at 18:27
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bottom of the well
bottom of the wellwalking through the Recoleta always depresses me.
for i feel the contrast between rich and poor bear down on me so heavily
and as I walk along
hungry
broke
i see the classy people
eating classy meals
in classy joints
and my hunger and frustrations grow
as I feel my ribs pressed hard against my skin.
i see the pretty ladies walking past me
and another kind of hunger grows,
this hunger too out of my reach
so neither can I satisfy
neither can I afford
it's cheaper to just vanish
or slip into the villas across the tracks
and mingle with the feeble minded,
the intellectually poor
yet I feel like my time is at hand
feel like glory is long overdue
feel like it's time I reap the seeds of genius I have sown
time to do away with the mediocre budget
my constant feeling of nutritional abandonment,
I'm feeling like the dawn of a new day is before me,
now
as gloom seems to want to swallow me up
and spit me out
into the same tomorrow.
Poetry by paul perry
Read 283 times
Written on 2010-02-08 at 18:27
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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by paul perryLatest textsbottom of the welltrain ride through the suburbs |
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