“putting things in order”

“putting things in order”

what a horrible thing to say before you die

when everything is so horrifically out of order

when all your ducks in a row are plucked christmas bastards

when are you gonna throw it into chaos before you die?

your last act of rebellion against two lips of earth

and the lips of pulpit-gobblers, who gargle their words

and spit them in your face like ticking time bombs

sixty seconds until death? well, hell, i’d better kick it!

better send checks to all my kids n kiss my wife goodbye

don’t you see how horrible it is, a life and death in order?

throw out your checkbook after you buy a flight to cross the border

maybe you kick the bucket on the plane

maybe you drop dead by a kiosk selling funeral tulips

doesn’t really matter. what matters i you beat your fist on death’s door n said

“well come n get me bastard, but first you gotta catch me!”