i know i am not alone
experiencing this kind of stare
at the monitor when you think you cannot write
not because there is nothing to write anymore but because
...
it was when i was about
to squirt
a useful, clinging idea
between my head
...
i ask you
how you feel,
you say, it is a house
...
the way you ignore
makes you a survivor
all these long years
your mind has become
...
staring at the sun on a noonday
in protest of what is happening to
all of the honest people
the annihilation of those who still
...
for a long time that i stared
at my face in the mirror
one evening
when the church bell
...
We sound the same
I mimicked you for twelve years
Like a mynah bird
Your choice of words
...
i poisoned that mouse
which ate my cheese
that i left
under my bed,
...
it is this spontaneity that
keeps us going
there is no count nothing about
what's next
...