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Bad Cab, Bad Company.

Cabs in Los Angeles are a joke to the Natives

A luxury to the tourists

Unknown to the kids

Blasphemy to the drunks with wheels as true as the night theyle never remember

Too expensive for the East side trying to reach the West

Unnecessary for the West side to reach the East

Too rare to hail

Too much hassle to call

Too expensive to justify alone

Too cowardly to suggest in a gang

Too slow from the Valley to Downtown

An afterthought in a responsible dream on the floor of a Burbank Household

 

But wheres my bed

Where are the keys we call ancient and my idols call cheap

Where is the beautiful girl who cries when the world shows its less than charming mug

Where is the 4 AM DJ with a poet, a dog, a sleeping ex-pat and 4 walls as his crowd

 

I used to be rough

I used to walk the whole way

I used to hitch a midnight ride from a generous creep

I used to be told where my home was

And now

No words are able to remind me

Not because they cant

Because they don't need to

 

Tiptoeing for another penny beer

Creaking as little as I can for another un-punished smoke

Sunrise napping on the guest bed so the capable, intelligent woman who knows right from wrong, and who is learning what really matters can sleep though the aches and pains of the real world i've so haplessly shrugged.

 

"Good" is gone

"Necessary" has become obsolete and too abstract to be worth wondering

"Too late" is too early, and too early is just right

"A good nights sleep" is about as realistic as wrangling the hubris that taught us how to create

"Im exhausted" is worth as much as "The sun is hot" and "The moon is round"

 

Why create when you can sleep, dream

Why sleep when you can create, dream

Why ask when you haven't got a choice

Why choose when the outcome remains the same

 

Stay up- Create

Knock out- Experience

Stay up- Experience

Knock out- and whats left of your mind will do the dirty work

 

Call a cab- Find that beautiful shack everyone but you hates

Stay on the floor- Dream about the messy , slippery, anarchy waiting

In the shack

Not so far away.

◄ In the Immortal Words of Bullshit- I Present to you...

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Comments

Preeti Sinha

Fri 6th Mar 2015 14:23

"Why create when you can sleep, dream

Why sleep when you can create, dream

Why ask when you haven't got a choice

Why choose when the outcome remains the same'

This is modern day angst at its best! Hard hitting realities.

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