I had to work in a cave last night.
I’m afraid.
Bring me back.
Wastin’ the water when electricity was comin’. [sing verse]

Can we be expendable?
I don’t even know if that’s the question.
Do we just acquiesce to everything,
ride out time
like it’s a bump in the road?
I feel my larger spheres
pent up in here,
and I know I’m expendable.

I don’t know how to find time.
I’m just a hole in the ground
in any largeness I make.
People just want to get me for it,
counting victims in my pen.
A few loyal survivors
have the guts to hear me
and not have me taken off.

I just wanna do away with it all.
Do you say that,
overwhelmed by existence,
how it doesn’t all work out,
how you go home one day,
and people have put a fence,
blocking your access road,
how you get slapped for kindness and sincerity,
how you can’t even trust yourself
to be good
when your free will’s compromised
by the shade from black night?

I’ve put on this flesh I know.
A body of man I’ve put on.
I wear existence’s sleeves,
and sometimes I think it’s a punishment.
I just want my boy to come home.

How do you know a poet’s worth?
They remind you of yourself
where you touch ground.
They grab existence
and almost show it to you.
They tell yah where you’re at
when you’re on the moon,
and they will lay with you in hell if you’re sorry
of the pentance you’re payin’.
I’ve grabbed a purgatory slot.
Hear my worth
as I try to find my time today.

Who you be lookin’ for,
someone with words better than me,
someone who can grab the times today
and get all Tennyson on yah?
I’m alone with Shakespeare you know,
grabbin’ his hat and puttin’ on my day,
all sound and fury.
I get all field on yah.
I life this to you.
I'm not an idiot.
I’m a Neptune
in the history of fishes.

I can get Barbra Streisand.
I can put on symbols like they’re lunch.
I can really tag you
in the sound of these words
when they’ve jumped off a cliff
and pulled a child’s pants down
to show you they’re lost there
and grow up fighting any sticky business
that puts you there.

I’m about a wheel and chain
on the road to time.
I want you to grow up
and give chances out on freeways.
I want you to be kinder than you are,
not as clannish
always in control.
I want you to be better than that,
not even giving me a word I’m supposed to touch.

I’m your poet today,
like it or not,
that brings poets’ meanings home.
I’m Jack Field.
Test my word
in life.
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