in short; in abstract

do you ever feel like paul newman
in Lucky Luke
when he's in the church
staring into the void of god's turned back
sweaty, your bumbling friend tries to blabber
and bullets end:
what we seem to have here, is a lack of communication..

but how do you tell boss
that yeah, net profit is down
but so is sanity and
moral

your professors that
i'm sorry you sell yourself first
and educate fourth

her that
being an occasional whore
just isn't enough
fulltime whore is all i can aspire to be

sidewalk worms is all this is
cold damp dying decomposers on man-made stone
point a to
point b
soon to die
and wither
corpses baked in the sun until vanishing miraculously
or dusted shadows exhibited

nature's low-ball humor
that's quite over my head