Author’s Note: This one is a little more fun if you read it in Tony Soprano’s voice.
I always defended my inner child Even when change, he’d slow or shunt I spoke to him softly, sweet and kind Never too harsh, rude, or blunt
But his juvenile ways sabotage me Constantly force me to fall back and punt It’s time for him to grow the hell up My progress, the crybaby tries to stunt
If I’m ever gonna get ahead in this world Any luck in life, the brutal hunt I can’t afford to have this kid in my way His juvenile tantrums, I gotta confront
All this baby does is worry, complain He fights reality, finds truth an affront His childish attitudes are holding me back I say, fuck that bratty, squawkin’ cunt
I know a guy; he paints houses, wetwork A reliable button man to bear the brunt He knows how to handle these things A backdoor man; alibi and solid front
I’m sick of his shit, bellyachin’, moanin’ I gotta do it; I’m putting out a hit on the runt I’ll murder this punk and bury his body In a shallow grave by the waterfront
i need to run pleeze set me loose to run in the yard i am a good dog im not too bryte you beat me but its ok i was bad i still love you i takes cares of you bestest i can i wrap my teefs around the bones of any bad peoples trys to harm you i rip the balls off anybody tries to hurt you ill live on one meal a week its ok i dont need no mental stima-lashuns i dont know what dem things is no persunal space them are just words i dont know what thems mean anyway i will lick your feet you will be happy i will be happy i dont need no time time dont ezist for me ezept when you gos away then i am a very sad if i had hands i would clean up my poop so you wouldnt have to stoop down and do it becuz its beneath you it must be beneath you becuz you dont do it much as littel as possibal i wish i could do it for you i dont need nuthin i wantz to run in sercals for you make you laff beg fer your attenshunz pleeze may i do tricks for you lick your face you snatch me up scruff of my neck i dont make no fuss yor the boss i deserve to be choked you warned me last time i already learn that lesson wounds almost healed up now its ok it was my fault i will not be bad no more sorry i interupted your favrit show with my dumb stuff my thirsties my hungerz me bein chokd on the chain around my neck i was just bein selfish i sorry i do better next time pet me pleeze i love you
dime store shopaholic purpose is dying thousands more reliable than the single or the none
little tick-tock remains to garner the gains gouge the special killing double barrel price gun
one for all and everything event pressure, systolic tying stakes to the ground taping nails into place
boatloads of saving coupons for barrels of monkey fish laurels trips and great prizes sale signs and wonders red tags of grace
cometh thee first oh ye saved, special items vip members, apostolic way buffed and paved golden, hyperbolic and warned, were they who heeded not, the news
crumbling, the chances to make quick advances power grab rostrum no sleeping possum who, missing bargain bus, sits at home with the blues
come antsy and itching tense and hot twitching lucky thunder ball ticket lightning begged from the sky
iron, hot and free lunch with cookies and punch waking neighbors from naps pay full price for scraps no savings for me? oh, dear lord, why not i?
the thrifty and clever with leverage on the lever get a long life extended warranty protection of dustcover case
it’s so sweet and juicy tried to tell sister lucy that hot tongue, bickering in flickering fashion but unlike lucy, whose lips drip skeptical passion it’s only a big, fat deal that you’re dickering and sizable discounts are what you embrace
all top-shelf stuff proof, more than enough taste it and see jump, shout, and sing promise satisfaction join in on our action a product, superior above any other
get in the door while there’s going left to get and still some to be got don’t burn with regret wishing you’d bought shiny, fresh feeling bargains, ground to ceiling and truthfully, there will never ever be another
I see the blood that spills in the streets Can practically smell the gunpowder air Tasting the ashes, bitter on my tongue I hear the explosions, but I am not there
I cannot claim to fathom their fear Or say that I know the depth of their dread I’ve not had to bear the loss of loved ones Nor have I the need to step over the dead
I live far away from the noise of the horror I close my eyes with no fear of sleeping No aid raid sirens awaken me rudely I read in peace, tea silently steeping
Pictures and articles pour in daily Videos making me a bit more aware I know it’s happening; I know that it’s real But the sadness I feel does not compare
I hear children crying, and nothing stops it I see the confusion and pain in their eyes I smell the smoke and festering wounds But the foulest odor is the stench of lies
A well-heeled madman’s misinformation Distorted guile drips from his tongue Slanderous justifications for the slaughter Of unknown thousands, old and young
But my food is hot; my belly is full I don’t hide underground or need to run There are no tanks parked out on my lawn My hands are empty; they hold no gun
I don’t have a gas mask close at all times My roads are clear, my home is intact The power to stop the storm is not mine It rages on, and the sky is blacked
I cannot order the attack to halt And to send in support is not my decision I don’t determine the fate of anyone else I need not defend my political vision
No sons or daughters go off to fight Because of anything that I say or do But war will not cease of its own accord No moving of money makes it less true
I can say kind things and show my support The only thing worse is not even to care The words I say, meaningless, useless It’s easy for me, for I am not there
If I believed it, I’d say, “Wait. Do nothing; Or else he may set the whole world afire.” I could say I believe to hold back is better But were I to say it, I would be a liar
Powerless, unable to stop a mass murder Intervention may mean the death of us all So, we answer the cry for help by saying, “We pray for you and hope you don’t fall.”
To cover our fears of atomic destruction Supportive words hang on digital display Perhaps if we allow the bully his toy He’ll go no further after getting his way
If only it were true that a taste of victory Made conquerors quit; one land controlled The wanton wishes of children who know Nothing of madmen, bloodthirsty, bold
I cannot assist in their hour of darkness Or insist that others answer the pleading My heart hurts for those brave defenders But my pain is painless; I am not bleeding
I cannot say “Fight,” nor can I say “Wait.” It’s not my problem or burden to bear After all, it’s easy to speak in abstractions It’s easy for me because I am not there
good morning, all you beautiful people you lovely, angelic folks i call friend i want you to know that i’m thinking of you though fiery days, together, do blend
whirling quick, down the drain of time not seeing your faces, hearing your voices distance and schedules demand this of us circumstance offering no other choices
i want to take this brief opportunity to say that you still mean a great deal to me i’d rather that we were conversing, laughing than where and how we happen to be
more often now, do i have these thoughts since all appears to be coming apart the wretched state of things all around us… i think of you, how i miss your heart
each moment is truly a blessing, unique neither taken for granted nor guaranteed i’d pray for you to have happiness, joy if i thought it helpful to request or plead
but alas, our time on the big, blue marble ephemeral, flickering, fleeting, concise disappears quickly, precious little warning like a glass of sunsets, smiles and ice
tumbler, carelessly knocked from our hands by a stupid stranger, passing by in a roar an ignorant ogre with a love of wealth a disdain of beauty and a love for war
beastly creatures, not one, but many loving too much, to climb and to fall punching holes in our collective boat though surely it sinks and dooms us all
the cup of this world, spills over with promise wonders of nature, so much opportunity carelessly ruined by the madness of kings who with stolen gold, kill with impunity
we, being lovers of kindness and good seeing their greed, the destruction it brings it hurts our hearts, we sigh and conclude “i guess that we just can’t have nice things”
as we watch them ripping it all into pieces everything beautiful, too soon to die i want you to know how much i love you i’d hate if the chance were to slip idly by
i want to tell you that you’re all in my heart and in my thoughts, your memories glow i’d not forgive myself if i wasted the opportunity to let each of you know
just over the horizon, a banshee wails as we near the welkin, do smile, once more i’ll be thinking of you, as we take that step through the long, strange and endless door
Kevin Trent Boswell 