a.d.winans | san francisco blues

Photo by A.D. Winans


Iran, Iraq, Libya

Africa, ethnic cleansing

Bill Gates, Donald Trump

And the Pope
All selling their own brand of dope

A mayor who is a joke

A bus system that doesn’t work

Head cases walking the street
Punk Rockers with rainbow hair
Women with pierced genitals
Ginseng for tired blood

My illusions are fighting a duel

With my delusions

The last time I picked up

A white courtesy telephone
The voice on the other end was mine

The dates on my calendar are blank

The pinball machine has no flippers
There’s no prize in my crackerjack box

My radio plays nothing but commercials
My hand holds my cock in contempt
My love life is an unread resume
With one too many references

I had a dream
I was a gunrunner

Trading hardware for software

I want my photo on a cereal box

Not a milk carton

The IRS is a legal shake down
The Pentagon a slaughterhouse

Jack the Ripper sliced and diced
His way through London Town
And he wasn’t even a chef

Freud was impotent

But put on a good show

Monks know the truth
But won’t share it

You know you’re in trouble

When your shrink deals in fantasies
And leaves you with his reality

My life has become a distraction
No addition and subtractions

When it becomes an abstraction
I’ll know I’ve found success

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