must've been the whiskey

who am i?

i question all the time

even though i'm existing in my own mind

i feel like my body is a host

and i'm watching the world

on 8 milimeter film

and it's sad

i just don't understand what it is to feel

and i guess it doesn't matter

cause who am i ? and what is this world?

hollow hollow hollow

hollow, is what i feel

for my depth has been sold

for 100 bucks and a bowl

"wont you come see me, queen jane?"

dylan is my true love

for he speaks to me like no one else

no one will ever compare

play your harmonica notes, slowly, on my pussy.

i don't care

who really matters? who am i?

who is watching. who is really judging

who matttterrrresssss

cause i feel like no one does

and

even if they did, there's always the great escape

everyone wants fame

but no one is real anymore

and it gets me asking what i'm living for

and sometimes the answer is "for love"

and other times the answer is "for revenge"

the new world is just trying to make you all stupid

i won't let it

my soul will hide in the 60s

for i don't belong dumb and empty-minded

look, just understand this

there's probably only one chance

to make things good.

so if you get the chance, say hello.

- Marilyn Metzger

September 2011

long island