Post Breakfast Aggression

Yes I had breakfast 
and no it didn’t help
there’s more to my satisfaction
than crunchy cornmeal and cow’s milk
but the coffee is a necessity
like getting out of bed 
it starts the day
but who’s to say
my day didn’t already begin?

In my erratic sometimes slumbering
the day never actually ends
and time never stops
so go on with your ways and I with mine
consciously slowly fading
so you don’t notice
where I’m going when I don’t show up
to work that madman place
where Joes my age go
to lose their minds and dreams
caught up in the uniform woven web
of conformity controlled by 
well I guess themselves but for fuck’s sake
why can’t Joe look in his own window
and see what I see?

That poor soul
dripping off the couch like puke
trashed beaten bruised
his own bloodshot eyes
sadly beg for mercy
and his abnormal confidence
has built a wall 10 feet tall
with no chance in hell
of ever hearing a cry for help
from his soul, our soul 
the world’s soul goddammit 
that’s what his soul is.

And fuck this coffee anyway
it only spikes my aggression
when what I need is an ally
we'll start with two and build
an anti army like Ginsberg did
my god that flowery fairy of a man
had it all right from the beginning
and everyone too scared to listen.