I used to be funny
Meditating
on what went wrong
I used to be funny
That kind of surface riding that the middle class Melbournians enjoyed
In the 90s
Was it 9/11?
That had the state & media farting in our faces 24/7
No that wasn’t it
Even living in the town with the highest murder rate in the UK
Couldn’t dampen it
The full psychotic breakdown
& the resultant heavy psych meds
Definitely slowed things
But I was still a sik kunt
Deaths of loved ones sobered me too
But I was still an idiot
No it was becoming a school teacher
Where I had to mute
Youthful enthusiasm
& be controlled all the while
I had to ‘be the adult’
Whereas I woulda rather smoked pot
With the troublemakers
Up the back of the room
I became a fuckin misery guts
Marriage
& being a carer for a seriously ill person
Added to the mix
But really
Teaching
The horror!
As depressing
As when I went to school as a kid
Surrounded by disciplinarians
School marms
Even now
As I’ve left teaching behind
I’m a serious prick
I mean
Clearly life’s a farce
So why stress?
Malachi!
Are you listening?
But hang on
Isn’t it also the people I hang around with
As a society
We’ve become more miserable
A wowserish time
The young are worst of all
They’ve had a job done on em
Whatever happened
To sex drugs & rocknroll?
In terms of psych meds I’m
screwed
Basically I’m too high
& so I must take drugs
to make me low
Coz humour & bonhomie is
seen as dangerous
The idea that we can bring
people together
I take dampeners to make
me fit
In this Anglo-Saxon
reserve
A jail cell in my head
Waiting for me to be dead
At 6 foot 2 I must contort
myself
To fit with the angry
short kunts
Constantly having to bow
& bend
Looking for someone to be
my friend
& so I’m a misery guts
I just want to hide under
the blankets
& burst forth
& care not whether my
reputation be vanquished
No doubt I’ll lose
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2024.
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