The writings of Oddpoet

Malt Shop Blues,

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Face dam­age actresses
Crip­pled dancers
Cas­trated Lothar­ios
Mute orators

Were all there

I was a spe­cial guest

You see I had the Blues
And the Malt Shop
Is where you sim­ply had to be
When suf­fer­ing that fatal spir­i­tual malady

I looked around at the col­lage of fail­ure
A con­glom­er­a­tion of burnt souls
Aban­doned in scorched pits of the damned
No amount of tears
Could ever put that fire out.

I moseyed up to the counter

Tit-less porn queens with sewn mouths giv­ing half priced blow jobs
Defrocked priest sell­ing wafers auto­graphed by Jesus him­self
An insur­ance man with his Moth­ers still beat­ing heart in his blood­ied hand
Bang­ing a deal with a used car sales­man
Who watched with sat­is­fac­tion
As his 11 year old daugh­ter pulls a train
with well dressed Turk­ish sailors

Busi­ness looked good

Boys scouts seek­ing merit badges
Sell crack to nuns
Don­ning the lat­est in Fredrick’s of Hol­ly­wood
God squad apparel

It was there
all our sins
We just don’t like to face it
We are all respon­si­ble
We are all guilty

The truth be a Mother Fucker

I closed my eyes and
Inhaled the filth
Pores open­ing
In hor­ror and greed
Ten­drils of mad­ness
Vio­lated me
became part of me

Don’t worry

Mad­ness don’t scare me none
Been there
Done that.

Bet ya
it scares the shit out of you

What shel­tered lives
Most of the pretty peo­ple lead

So when you look with envy
At your neigh­bors weed­less
Pris­tine green lawn

For a sec­ond
Just a sec­ond
Think of those peo­ple
In the Congo
Being hacked to death
With Machetes

It’s real
It’s happening

Now

And if you can get away

Come by the Malt shop
I’ll be there

Got

Plenty

of Room