How Self-Consciousness Counts
Why in hell should anyone understand
Me now that I am fifty-eight old years?
They didn’t when I was a ripe young three,
Askin why if god’s so all-good he would
Let goldfish die, eyes never closin’ once,
And why you all always fightin, screamin,
Callin chother bad words, cryin? Why
Should anyone in hell understand why?
Used twice, I might seem to be emphatic
But ain’t shit, and no one spies me
Here conducting a death march. Through Hades,
I could probably go buttassed naked,
Not a soul noticing save one, somebody
Thinking, There’s a guy needing some lotion
On them ashy legs of his but oh he
Sure can skeedaddle, must be used to it.
