DEATH TO MIND, DEATH TO FIND

07 December 2014

Humble Dumpster

Humble dumpster, remind me
of how shitty it used to be.
Lurkin' through the alley alone.

The white weeds tumble,
the grey bleeds sky.
I don't know why, I don't know.

Graves have shut eyes, and you too.
Violets red and roses blue,
They rarely hit my funny bone.

Road ends nowhere,
brown thrashers fly,
Chasing dead signs. Chasing dead.