nobody cares about your
creativity. all who do
however,
are living well.
...
o, hunger.
why do you hate me?
or is this love that I feel,
wriggling like a snake with no legs?
...
you, sir,
need to stop.
the dirt is piling up
next to your damp hole.
...
she woke up with
the taste of stale bread
this morning.
her green curtains look
...
time slows as
we hold hands.
two halves of shell,
with love shut inside.
...
this morning I awoke to see mr. hayte
standing over me.
he said, 'son,
your much too old to be speaking
...
well that'll be the day.
the day that all these things,
even if theyre plain lies,
will eventually come to rest.
...
there is a man in my stomach.
he is not happy.
mad really.
so mad that my stomach is empty!
...
when you wait too long
feelings can change,
nails grow longer (as does hair) .
but my eyes dont work quite right,
...
all my words, in their different compositions
never really please me.
I am starting to think that they,
the letter formations,
...
feel free to sit,
stay a while.
but please, do not
out stay your welcome.
...
oh yes, the old tale of defeat.
how it rings clearly
in these ears.
a soft tune carried
...
point made.
touché my friend.
how far till we arrive?
question.
...
Boats
if I were a boat
I would sail around the world
a big boat indeed