I got a Census reminder today
and it puzzled me
like whirlpool of trash
and stench
sucking, sucking, sucking.

We care about you.
We care about you.
This is for you.

It called out
in big, childish letters
simple to read
for the simple people.

This is for you
it said
We’re doing this for you
because you count.

That’s what it said,
because you count.

Who buys this bullshit
Who really buys it
It’s like I’m stuck
we’re stuck
in this twighlight zone
of fuckery and pride
a cocktail of fear
and rule loving
homicidal maniacs
disguised as housemothers
and grandparents
and teachers.

We call them

Who buys this shit?
I’ll tell you who buys it…
I buy it.

I buy it all
been waiting for someone else
been waiting for anyone
to say

But not me.
I buy it all.
and I know it
and I bitch about it
Like eating McDonalds
by myself
in an empty parking lot.

That’s who buys this shit
and for fucks sake
I’m running out of time
I mean really,
50 years and it’s no joke
I can’t talk myself
out of the yoke
I can’t tell myself
maybe next year
or maybe tomorrow
so soon, my dear.


I buy it all
and I wait for another
I buy it all
and I don’t run for cover
I buy it all
because I’m to afraid
to stand up
and say what I think
and feel what’s
come up.

I’m the one
who this is all for
it’s not for you
This isn’t your war
So don’t worry, don’t worry
1 second more.

Until I stop buying
there will always be more.

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