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	<title>pfhawkins.com &#187; park bench</title>
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		<title>Tuesday Juggernaut</title>
		<link>http://pfhawkins.com/2009/05/08/tuesday-juggernaut/</link>
		<comments>http://pfhawkins.com/2009/05/08/tuesday-juggernaut/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 08 May 2009 13:42:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>pf</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[poem]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[park bench]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sandwich]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[trickster]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Sitting on the curb by the park bench Barefoot listen to the buzz growl Motors on the tires on the asphalt on the feet What a sandwich, what a sandwich Now God don&#8217;t exist but oh! this sandwich Slave to the toil for the belly, the hunger Wish I was slave for the love of [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Sitting on the curb by the park bench<br />
Barefoot listen to the buzz growl<br />
Motors on the tires on the asphalt on the feet<br />
What a sandwich, what a sandwich<br />
Now God don&#8217;t exist but oh! this sandwich<br />
Slave to the toil for the belly, the hunger<br />
Wish I was slave for the love of another<br />
We born let to die and then, my brother<br />
The poet look cockeyed at whistling trees<br />
He call me a trickster, I ask &#8220;Who art thee?<br />
Are you of this world or are you born free?<br />
This concrete jungle, what&#8217;s in it for me?&#8221;<br />
That sandwich was tasty I wish I had pie<br />
If that&#8217;s all there is then it&#8217;s all been a lie<br />
Scatterbrain scatterbrain eat, poop, die</p>
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