when the buzz don't come
and the muse is dumb
and your brain's gone numb
you can scratch your bum
hope the vibe don't stick
when the air goes thick
now my heart's a brick
you can suck my dick
and the feeling fades
like the serenades
of the renegades
to the straight-laced maids
and the buzz is gone
and the muse was wrong
but the song goes on
and on and on
and on
and on
and...
Poems For My Analyst by Wayne Myers