stay poor and die regardless

thirty days on county time

sometimes better remembered in a steep haze

was a witness to the rise and fall of man

was a witness to a lot of s**t

with the Monday morning wake and bake scene

and the unrelenting scream of the eons

echoes through eardrums

with each elongated tock of the clock

the enigmatic essence of moments in slow speed

while i make music in my head and

wait to put words to the rhythm

these unmetered chords

could come across as contradictory

a guitar holding reverb

i'll never make it in the real world

that dead zone

that dry hump

does it seem submissive?

yeah, 'cause it felt like a tap out

Author's Note

this was the first thing i wrote on the first day of the first jail term since i hit 30, just before the anger and frustration of having my partying suspended for a bit gave way to resigned complacency. previous visits in my twenties were spent sleeping and watching tv, but this time i wanted to write. must be some of that maturity thing i keep hearing about. credit 50 Cent for the title, whose dumbass movie happened to be on tv at the time.