Skills/Bills

My skills don't pay my bills
i am only 28, getting heartburn as of late, my insides must be ill
i've been meaning to get my passport for months now i am a slacker
this sucks my soul out, i am after happiness but just keep finding doubt.
a string broke on my ukelele this morning
and although i wrote a new song first but i fear it might be boring, weak bridge, no chorus
i am a weak link in a chain that makes the world better
i try to make my world better but i am exhausted from the effort
i bought a mower for my grass but i only cut half
i'm shuffling funds from one credit line to another trying to keep the banks off of my back
the people i love most are actually cats

i went to school though, and then i quit school and i am proud
i have a job, it's called poetry and music but my muses must be sick, i talk quiet and cry loud
poems are as vague as air and as necessary
i write them for me and so people might get me
i write them for free like i have to breathe
but i will grow old with no pension
i only hope someone might quote something i once wrote or told, in the opening page of a good book i'd like a mention

my house, like my head, is full of clutter
i have no money but still manage to find some with which to buy almond butter
my needs, apparently are extravagant
there is always beer in the budget
because life is rough and instant gratification adds a soft touch to it
i have a sore throat but still want to smoke drugs
i have a complicated faith that makes me want to take more drugs
i have hate for a system that puts people in prison for using drugs, it's them and us and if i go down for this i'll scream and i'll cuss

amidst this i mean to be productive
i write lists to make things visual, fell constructive
maybe i'm just obsessive
sit with coffee and plan goals i'm not yet pursuing
have a refill, an excuse to keep still, more stewing
i talk of health and wellness and think of things that i'm not doing

but i want love in spite of all this
and back rubs and honest questions and due respect
i want poems to save my life
i want karma to save my poems
i want money to come to me, i want my head to be a happy home

Tanya Davis 2006