Sunrise

Jet pilots scribbled lines over the artwork of God this morning. I stood on the black roof that was white rubber only two years ago.

Looking down at four lanes of traffic....little colored dragons with smoking asses, puffing their way to work, shopping or taking grandmother to her hair appointment because sister was too lazy to get the fuck out of bed at 7:00 in the morning.

I thought....all those lives, coming and going while I perch myself like a fat blue collar bird on a large rooftop conduit.

Meanwhile....beneath me, employees,(These days called,"Associates")are scurrying about, getting ready for the Holiday Season. I'm sure that Jesus himself would appreciate the fact that they marked forty percent off of a hundred dollar coat that was made by Asian sweat shop children.

November brings the ends of harvest and the farmers clogging the roads with their giant machines. I laugh as I see one going up the hill with a long line of cars behind it.

It is a time when cars make the sound,"Put, put,varoom, bitch, moan, dammit....(Cell phone)...."Yes darling...I will be late because of this fucking loser farmer on his slow ass tractor...by the way...what's for supper tonight?"

Sitting here on the dirty rooftop...I've come to the conclusion that we are all YOKED TO SHIT.

We gladly trample over and run past the very art of God for a shit sale. Who notices grass and trees at the Mall? We see,"SALE"and then "Shit Mode" kicks in because we are conditioned from childhood that our value is how much shit we own and consume.

I was going to say something profound in this paragraph but then I thought about it. I am too tired to be profound. I guess I could grind out a great novel or write a hit song. Then again....I would just get rich and buy a lot more shit because I love technology and modern conveniences.

Give me a microwave dinner over cooking a squirrel on a stick in the fire...anytime.

Maybe I think too much when I'm alone up on the roof. I wonder sometimes if anybody is really going anywhere. The jets, cars and trains of business are nothing more than ants building yet another ant hill.

With a sip of piss warm coffee...I raised the cup and said,"Here's to mankind...the only being in the universe that can fuck up a beautiful sunrise!