What if Christopher Marlowe were a passionate shepherd today? What might a letter to his love look like? I think it might go a little something like this if he lived here in America. (Please place tongue firmly in cheek while reading this ... Thanks!)
A Laid off Shepherd to his main chick
Come
live with me and let’s pay this rent
And we
won’t wonder how money’s spent
With
Two incomes no need to be nervous
And bill
collectors won’t withold service
Stable
living might pull us off the rocks
Fuck getting
a haircut, I can grow Locks
My
people, your people still talking collapse
Keep
talking shit, I’ll let the phone bill laps
Life
for us has been no bed of roses
Two
doors rarely open after one closes
Blossoms
or not, I just want you to stay
You
know I don’t make my bed anyway
(Sigh)
Constant
applications with no reply
Talent
and skill this world will deny
Have to
remember, nothing lost but a try
I Sleep
just fine, my help comes from the sky
Head
up, shoulders back, I repeat to self
Confidence
is key to amassing wealth
Certainty
grows in your garden of love
No cliché
to say you come from above
The
baddest outfit and Red Bottom shoes
As soon
as these job searches bring good news
At some
point my life is bound for accent
So come
on girl, help a brother pay this rent
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