Assholes in the Sky

The fucking moon
The fucking sun

The assholes in the sky

Dictating time and life
Schedules and employment
While you are exhausted
You feel obligated to be
Awake
Because of the sun
And when you awake
Beneath the moon
You are more alive
But you should
Be asleep
Instead of drinking
Smoking
Or sometimes
Fucking
But certainly not
Eating
Quietly
Watching for shadows
On the street below
Oh no

It's easy to target
The weirdness
In the night

I am the weirdness
In the day
Drunkenly crawling
Through neighborhoods
With a bag of books
A flask
 Faking sobriety
Each time I walk into
A bar

I'm worse than all of my
Drunk asshole
Customers
I'm my own worst
Customer

I drink when the sun comes up
And when it falls down
And the moon is suddenly
There
And I'm on a sidewalk
Thinking about what the moon
Looks like in California
Or what the sun really
Looks like in space
Face to burning face

You are at home
Possibly wondering
About me
I'll think about us in
Another minute or so
But first
I'm thinking about
A world without gravity

Would the demons float
Away with us
Would ghosts be torn
From the houses
They haunted

Would chainsaw wielding
Maniacs float away
Trying to catch weapons
And prey

That's if it all happened
In slow motion

Final kisses
Punches
Stabbings
Shootings (although
The bullets would be
Off trajectory)

Cats and dogs floating
Past masters
Suicide bombers
Blowing up in the sky
Killing only themselves
Tanks flipping

Books, dirt, rock
Skin, hearbeats
Suffocating in the crowds
Floating up
Burning in the atmosphere

At least we didn't die alone