Escapismitis

It’s for twenty minutes now. You sit there on your own. Drunk, sad and angry. And just a little stoned. And laying in the ashtray Your cigarette burns down. It’s only ashes now.

You deam of the day when your walls don’t crawl Infested couch, and mattress Bedbugs in them all. Sleeping on the table. Hoping you don’t fall. You sleep when you’re able. And you drink until last call.

Your belly rumbles empty. Mouth aches for a drink. When did you last have power? Six months ago I think. And you can’t turn on the shower. You bathe with bottled water. And your clothes begin to stink.

Police patrol out in the streets. Like sharks in bloody waters. Out looking for fresh meat. Weapons drawn, acting tough. Take your money and your freedom Don’t we have it bad enough? We have it bad enough.

Your car won’t start. Stuck in a parking lot. Got the freakin’ hood up. Block cracked from running hot.

Your phone is out of minutes. And you’re running late for work. You can’t have it towed. Your bills are owed. So now you have to walk.

Arriving late to work, Parched and drenched in sweat. Despite determination. Boss writes you up again. Yearning for redemption. You’re facing termination. With one more offense.

Your shift is done. You’re free to go. Walk for miles on a busy road. Back to your mobile home. It’s still empty, without power. And you still can’t shower. And you live there all alone.

Hooray, Hooray. It’s another day. And you had to wake up early. The walk is long, the walk is hard. It’s not even seven thirty.

You walk pass the lot Where your car once sat. Towed away overnight. And you’ll never get it back. Still a week until payday And you have to cash the check. Your money spent already Can’t even pay the rent.