Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

this writing thing has been
the biggest surprise of my life,
for much of my time here
I was too busy, a dutiful employee
of the men with ugly ties, and me
always available for juicy exploitation....

I needed money, and they didn't mind
bending me over the bargaining table
it was a sick symbiosis, and so it went
like a cheap pocket-watch, the time
was skewed out of kilter like a ponzi scheme
with Schwarzenegger muscles

it always tilted in favor of faceless drones
that had no interest in my well being,
no concern, whether my bones were artistic...
knew nothing of my flesh's desires to use metaphor
to escape the middle manager ghouls
that had given up their dreams in other lifetimes

they never considered the peons, the numbers
that made them look good, but Hey
that's water over the damn bunch of them
my mind escaped long ago into another world
I've been on the lam forever, a fugitive
from bad breath and lack of imagination

Sitting at your camp fire of desire
for the freedom to be free
I feel the music begin on the old flat top
my years I scrambled from hard yard to hard yard
wild wood and around about
your poem sings in our song by the fire
old man
of those
who know the dawn of the wage slave
at least see the sun
the slaver stays blinded
behind the gun

*Sparkle on the Monkey Train*

thanx gents....superb poem and sketch leafsailor.....looks a lot like me back in the day...