Far away up a paved street
to a dirt trail
to a path
off road
...
Ten attempts at mediocrity, I haven’t got a page.
Nine pedestrian passages, empty fits of rage
Eight fragments, contrived, stilted and trite
Seven cigarettes, that burned throughout the night
...
Flower maturation
Acid disintegration
Corpse of the people who try too hard
And then we are who we say we are
...