The sound of textured stout
and tobacco's wormy shroud
Fan a double sided deal of
Life in the fast seat

Bitter boredom and the excess
that perpetuates it all
the question of ''why" comes back
even stares you in the face
the lonely door opens up
To a host of teetering escapes

Toiling ants crawl up space
honor and humiliation pace
the perversely private
pollutes the public eye
Pain held and released in
Lonely asides

Oblivion, more oblivion
anything other than oblivion?

driving, drinking, diving under
a haze that surrounds all action
Make belief the potent fake
the sizzle that burns the steak

Is this mad?

I am asking you