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Thursday, March 10, 2011

Late Night With Uncle Bill's Last Word




Late Night With Uncle Bill's Last Word


there are no causes left to fight

that are not being fought

somewhere by someone

that you never met

but yet, you know them better

than you know your self

so you keep fighting

there will be more of it

after you die

even if you are already dead

and don't know it yet

fighting through the bardo

against the beast of your mind

against the creatures of your soul

against the monsters of your will

you will never have to surrender

it will eat you alive as much

as it will eat you dead

like old filthy mcnasty

wrenching on the eternal crankcase

of sisyphus old chopped hog

while old fast eddie keeps slipping out of sight

certainly he must be circling back around, always

dino died in mexico, just past san felipe

the shallow grave was really just a hiding place

berto takes too many magic bullets

shuffles off stage left to the coast

no applause from the underinformed audience

candy is a girl dressed like a woman

she turns blue in a dark blue motel room

cold and stiff as your love laying there

next to her in the morning

the last take in the scene before they yell cut

too many times down little starla's wrist

as she makes jello molds of her last moment

leaving you with one last cigarette

that the paramedic takes as the cops

take you away again as usual

big paulie saw it coming so many times

you got to give it to him in the face

just so he knows what time it is

it can ruin the funeral

but nobody goes to those anymore, anyway

there are stories about how mona died

in your arms as they were swollen tired

and shot out for days

there are carloads and truckloads

of bad accidents on the road

none as sad as your little baby girl

crying down the shiny concrete halls

as you huddle with thorazine slippers

and lithium pajamas on the vacaville tier

plotting out the revenge of sharpened

tooth brushes shoved into eye sockets

before the guards can fire the first fatal

warning shots into the head of your worst friend

getting left alone to fight into the night

wake up with no sleep fighting, always

fighting still into the sun or the stormy outcome

walking with swagger staggering with false pride

you always want the first taste of anything

people tell you you might have killed too many

you never kept count, can't pin nothing on em

except bad math in hard circumstances

as train tracks truck by into the long distance haul

bags and balloons and bottles and balls

all getting their kicks with you as tears run away

with the moon with the stars with the sun with it all

even into the wild blue yonder into hells built for two

until it is a lonely ticket, reserved for one

watch what's on the menu

the surgeon general said eating pussy causes

throat cancer more so than cigarettes

you quit smoking, among other things, but

don't be an afterlife pussy, don't stop living this one

even if they tell you that you are dead, keep going

use up all the oil, eat up all the corn, free all the slaves

like it was you all along, come to save something

only it was you all along, that had something saved

something they couldn't take from you

something you held onto forever like a supernova

even after nicki hepatitis told you to never leave

which was fitting, so much so, that your last word was LOVE

without ever saying good bye

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