it dont matter to me

man that ole tornado is bearing down on me...coming in fast from the west...the clouds thicken and darken just in time for the rumblin'...whistle blowing, crazed conductor...get the fuck out of the way...it is too warm for november...ive been walking the lazy streets...passing the good folk...tip my hat and they disappear...it is all dreaming fast, living young, living whole, here with the good people tonite...all your memories and memoranda wont do me no good...i am flying dead end and low to the ground...driving around looking at all the faces today made me think of this poem i wrote five years ago...i'll give it to all you tonite...

it dont matter to me

and as the old saying goes...
that in itself is an old saying
and it is all saying the same old thing

as the old saying goes
what are you good for?
good for nothing

and even though that's how
the old saying goes
that is how it is...

what are you good for?
dust on my clothes
silt in the sea...

so when they tell me
i'm good for nothing
they are telling the truth.
-sept 10 2000.