Too Much in the Belly

I’m having cake for breakfast
And maybe tomorrow beer
And the day after that your silence
These things will bring me my cheer.

There is haunting in patience
There is a pressure of steel
death and the want of happy
grind at you every meal.

For dinner I’ll have my whiskey
And give up on trying at all
For lunch I’ll sip on speculation
And wait for the axe to fall.

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