Not For Sale
With blistered brain but tawny gut
I might have worked my way out of the rut
Of the trailer-park culture whence I came
But I never cared much for playing the game.
I don't have a house, don't have a dime
And I notice my age and the passage of time.
The worth of a man is the money he's got
Else he must be some kind of a radical nut.
A man's got clout or he's only a lout.
That is what this world is about.
That is the current mass-media directive
And it brushes aside personal perspective.
But I'll measure instead by the smiles that I make
And the happier lives I could leave in my wake
And I'll hope that one day I'll seek and I'll see
A good man and say, "I'll be damned but that's me!"