that it be known

let it be known that
should i die tonight
(heart attack or stroke)
it often hangs on a thread

the sway of your breasts keeps me alive
my daughter´s vivacity
my sons tenacity
keeps me alive

but me
like some billion others
it just hangs on a thread
and there´s scorpions in my head
horny sadists of the inquisition
getting their kicks off of torture
and the faceless ones with their imperatives
so i am screaming silently
a day late, as always
rushing ´cause i´m far behind
so many miles
away
way back then
in tepid bath water with my yellow plastic ducks