It’s a tough life
sifting through the bargain bins
those out of date and dented tins
are metaphors, defeats and wins
my up and down world.
It’s physically hard
to cat calls form the uncooth crowd
in winter when the rain is cold
my ears go numb.
It’s so insecure
the contracts and careers are short
like fresh fish we are sold and bought
with sunken eyes devoid of thought
on sell by day.
the pressures of the modern store
or spam galore
the ckeckout bleeps
the fan’s dropped jaw
as souls are sold.