Checklist.

Modern day deadlies sinking into the everyday… Society’s got you covered.
Check one, check one:

LUST:
Diamonds for the trophy wives and thieves
call girls and coke whores for average Joe Blow
in their ragged 80's prom dresses, leaning in the window...
(a cigarette rests between her lips, yet I’m staring at her tits)
a raspy cancer-soaked reply slides in through the silence:
“Such big eyes you have Mr. Wolf (and I can see them peering down my shirt)"
murmur low, flashing full wallet
whispering wasted compliments -
"your fingers and your lips are beautiful
(your fingers and your lips are killing me)"

GREED:
(not just a has been gameshow, a way of life)
IwantIwantIwantIwant
memememe
minemineminemine
nownownow…
Never enough for any corporate puppet
marketing targets the evil children inside
and wallet feeds addiction
as we buy ourselves to death
and sell bodies like candy on the corner
(money makes the world go ‘round)
everybody get on for one more spin

ENVY:
Calls to deep inside
and our innards turn that delightful shade of green:
She’s got the million dollar wardrobe.
That temp got MY promotion.
Like I’ll ever be able to afford an iPhone.
Stupid lottery – He got my winnings.
My god that’s a sexy car.
The hulk is lost in comic lore as the rage flashes in your eyes
And you’re slowly eaten alive by the need to have and be a better… Anything.

GLUTTONY:
a familiar term to all, but secret master to most
(addiction - hide it from the world like a young teen hides porn)
years of lies and self-denial fill the veins
and you live through
alcoholic memoirs and psychedelic transfusion – stories of the good ol’ days
when you had a liver and your loved ones knew your face.
Moremoremore – One more drink, one more fry, one more go at Keno
Don’t stop, can’t stop
Treating every vice like it was alpha and omega
One more hit, one more spin
Should the world stop, I’ll be satisfied
(and my soul will be property of the IRS)

PRIDE:
The cheerleader’s creed, prom queen’s plead, bottle blonde’s cry:
“Look at me, look at me”
all in training for the middle-aged, track suit, blinged out trophy wife
(plastic surgery nightmare)
caked on make up and vaseline teeth
grin slow like the Cheshire cat – Promising us the evils of tomorrow
(if you buy them jewels today)
“I’m wonderful, perfect, marvelous even”
Think too highly, watch them fall…
Just as it go-eth before.

SLOTH:
Mono is the modern day medical cop-out
minutes, hours, days fly by
quietly serenaded by the low buzz of the clock before you hit snooze
hearing of the world over the phone from friends outside
while you and Rip Van Winkle share dusty sheets.
Wastng your life dreaming of the life you should be leading
waiting for the sandman to make the extra trip
(his drowsy tap leagues stronger than any Nyquil)

WRATH:
Justice wrought and all shall be punish-ed
scorned and bleeding, you work on the wound while plotting revenge
as blood begins to boil.
Action and reaction, no care of consequence
“as long as they suffer like I have – they’ll pay for hurting me”
forgiveness long since aborted
and blood reaches fevered peak
as madness takes hold
and you babble your plans to a public that only cares if you’ve had you meds
(not your revenge)

And where's hope, when life’s misery comes crawling?
I’ll always have my lovely deadlies...

Seven has always been my lucky number.