Quasi

Life is full life is grey:
at its best it's just ok.
but i'm happy to report
life is also short.
so i find myself back in california -
i'm a coolie for the tourists,
those happy epicureans:
evil spectres from my own suburban upbring.
as i reveal points of interest, i can chat so pleasantly,
but it's hard to be cheerful when you feel so hopeless
and there's no reason for this dark mood.
it will pass; it will return, but will i ever learn ?
and the children of privilege begging for my spare change.
do they need my assistance to purchase their intoxicants,
or would they best be served a swift kick
slowly sinking in the vast ambivalent sea of california.