THE ANGRY WORLD: Happy Hour in Boiler City

On the deadest of dead end streets

I drunk stumbled into a dark and lonely saloon

Gingerly rubbed my bloodshot eyes that had gone piss yellow

On an empty dance floor filled with starry night dreams

Christ was on the cross smoking a cigarette

Dude exhaled a smokey blue crown of thorns

Looked at me with that holier than thou attitude

And said to me in his rock star voice

“My dad can beat your dad up.”

It was a tough point to argue

I shuffled over to the bar, ass itching

Ordered a tall whiskey in a golden chalice

One of Boiler City’s ghostly villains was slinging drinks

The Black Magic Necromancer performed one of his tricks

He filled my busted and bony body with drink

Made my coward soul disappear

I thanked him kindly and was on my way to work

Tinkering with computers at The Cape Horn Furnace Company

My life becoming a Blue Screen of Death