Gabriel

"murdered in the alleys of the land
frost-bitten against flagpoles
pawned by females

educated in the dark for the dark

vomiting into plugged toilets
in rented rooms full of roaches and mice

no wonder we seldom sing
day or noon or night

the useless wars
the useless years
the useless loves

and they ask us,
why do you drink so much?

well, I suppose the days were made
to be wasted
the years and the loves were made
to be wasted.

we can't cry, and it helps to laugh
it's like letting out
dreams, ideals,
poisons

don't ask us to sing,
laughing is singing to us,
you see, it was a terrible joke

Christ should have laughed on the cross,
it would have petrified his killers

now there are more killers than ever
and I write poems for them."

Bukowski