When I was homeless man
The county came riding in
On their high white horses,
Like our saviors they promised everything
Including all the
Things they clearly
Were unable to provide
They were showing
the wrong
Picture
And we looked with
Our wrong eyes
They came and took me
From my shelter
And from my rubbish room
Filled with
Cockroaches
And vermin
And snakes of every ilk
It was a fever dream
Of deception
And cups of curdled cream
Dealing from a loaded shoe
I tried my hardest
Not to scream
I tried to remind them
That nightmares
Are really just dreams, too
But they chose not listen
To a man with just my flaw
I was an outlaw, though disabled
With no filter
On my lips
I told them I was a
Manic man
Words flowed from my
Fingertips
They must have thought
That I said schizoid
Because they found
A rubber room
In which they could both
Quiet and imprison me
Until I changed my tune
But the only thing that changed
Was the chaos and the whore
And the loss of my dear brother
Who still lives inside a cool Morgue drawer
Because here
we cannot burn a man
When he is dead
without a next of kin
We give that gift to the living
When we thank them for dropping in
But this shit hole isn’t Beverly
And the hillbilly’s are not home
This is just a simple nuthouse
On a parkway of our own
There are 5200 and 20 virgins
Waiting to get laid
But the whorehouse smells
Of insanity and mold and lemon aid
So the virgins go without their cock
As the dogs bark at the moon
The rats are doing laundry
For when the county
Rides in soon
All must be dressed up
With fancy feathers on their
Piss stained finery
We hope their medication
Isn’t hidden in a cheek
I only hope my little dog and I
Get away within our skin
And we don’t get flayed and murdered
In this nuthouse
we live in

K.Carlson
C. Jan 3, 2024
Nippular Arts & Music
From a nuthouse at
5220 Sky Parkway
Sacramento California


© Daxyl