down town listening to james brown
trying to build the lyric out
and remember the way the fluid used to flow
i was “the machine”, ya know?
born under a sad sign
digging blues out of the imagined river
speaking in tongues, these bronchial lungs
this bullshit-itus you didn’t invite us
forced us to surrender; didn’t fight us
do i think of myself as old now?
as broken apart and sold now?
like parts of an estate? a human being in a state
a state of flux
being driven through by articulated trucks
not articulate fucks that have anything to say
is this how we play now? is this how we pay now?
stagnant, fermenting in the souring juices
sat here nursing imaginary bruises
the illusion sometimes confuses, blows the fuses
starts a war and breaks the truces
wondering about boundaries and iron foundries
and how loose loose is?
we want to emerge and make our own rules
we were failed by schools
and we’re saving ourselves and our kids
turning into the skids, placing new bids
developing new paths, and new maths
like a resting state gathering mass
as we pass through a double slot experiment
and our probability wave collapses thanks to some observer
pays to be a quick learner
early adopter; good earner
putting nothing on the back burner
salting the tongue 