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SuperBad. (standard:poetry, 271 words)
Author: Finn McKoolAdded: Jul 02 2002Views/Reads: 1807/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Back in black ;)

2002-07-01 - 4:10 p.m. 

Super Bad. 

My minor maniac-depression has temporarily swung a tad in t'other

I'm in a fresh dress shirt, and cool, comfy khaki's. I've had a shower.
I need a cigarette. I'm gettin' up on pay day and I got a couple of 
bucks in my pocket. It's amazing how much better you feel after a 
picture of hamilton and jackson wander into your wallet, and you've had 
a chance to consume your favorite board of fair from your favorite 
delivery sandwhich shack (and I do mean consume, that sandwhich effused 
me like a blow job). 

I feel more like me again. 

Finn with the double n. 

The wide brim 

and the crooked grin. 

Swingin' his pen 

Like Doc Holliday. 

I'm yo' Hucklebearer, 

write for blood? that's just my game. 

What's my mother fucking name?! 

Let's toss a few back 

and blow some shit up 

Let's dance in the middle of Main St. again 

Oh twist again like we did last summer. 

Twist again (on my bed, covered in sweat in the candlelight, while my
neighbors argue, and my roommates smoke out, that's why we didn't go to 
the bar). 

That's right kids, I'm not feeling quite as complacent. 

Not quite as adjacent to a rain cloud 

Not quite as if I've been watching David Hasselhoff all day. I'm not
feeling so anaestithized. 

So where da party at? 

Where da bitches at? 

Where da beer at? 

Where we meetin' at? 

Lemme grab my pimp hat 

the big brown brimmed hat 

my big bad wolf hat 

and fuck all that 

Back into the night 

To howl again. 



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