Somewhere in Heaven
The Gods all look down
At the biggest of cities
And the tiniest town,
They watch people playin’
And workin’ and sleepin’
(It’s okay that they watch us
‘Cause Gods can’t be creepin’).
They shout for our victories,
Sob for our failings,
But one thing holds constant
For all of their wailings:
All Gods will swear
On all that is pious
That those damned referees
Are all fuckin’ biased.
They hosted a party
On the banks of the Styx
For the vice-presidents
And the second-round picks,
The guys who won silver,
Who went out with a flicker,
And all the cheerleaders
Who dated the kicker.
They hosted a party
For the closely defeated
To celebrate those
Who quite nearly succeeded.
I was invited
But stayed home instead
‘Cause I hadn’t stopped trying
And wasn’t yet dead.
In Iowa approacheth
In which the snollygosters
Can perform their verbal dances,
Each hoping to ensnareth
Those gullible and influential
For they see primary voting
As a big campaign essential.
The maladroits have moseyed
And the minor leaguers drowned
Leaving only malefactors
With the finest lies around
And the lucky folks in Davenport,
Des Moines, and Keokuk
Get to argue first about
Who’s the least likely to suck.
You want to be listened to
Instead of overheard.
You want a conversation
And not just have a word.
You want to celebrate your life
Instead of just staying alive
And because you know the difference
I know someday you’ll thrive.
I’m not smiling ’cause I’m happy;
I’m smiling because I am cold,
And I must pay for heat and something to eat
Until I grow fatally old.
I’m not smiling ’cause I like you;
I’m smiling because I need gas,
So I turn up my lips to encourage more tips
And, if that fails, wiggle my ass.
My smile is not one of pleasure
And the tears that I hide have no joy
And I, every day, pray for a bump in my pay
As I serve you your mocha with soy.
I’m not smiling ’cause I want to.
I’m not laughing ’cause I’m amused.
I just try to look fun ’cause I’m broke, 21,
And the universe makes me confused.
Filed under Lyrics, Poems
When you think of rings you think “wedding,”
And you think that a heel is a shoe.
When I think of rings my mind goes to wrestling
And a heel is the guy people boo.
You think that dropkicking somebody is crazy
And I think it’s living the life
And that, my dear lady, is just one of the reasons
You won’t be this wrestler’s wife!
Sometimes you bite
A chocolate chip cookie
But it’s actually oatmeal raisin.
Sometimes you meet with
A girl you don’t like
But she’s actually really amazin’.
Sometimes you’re hired
For the job of your dreams
Which turns into something you dread.
Sometimes a cookie
Is only a cookie
But sometimes it’s a chimpanzee’s head.