Matthew Foor

Take a walk with me and talk with me
About the world that we live in today
Cuz when we reach the shores of the river stix
We're each gonna have to pay
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Damn technology!
Damn it all to hell!
We eat, sleep, and breath technology.
I just lost a poem to that evil vermin!
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Restrictions and medications
Prescriptions for imaginations
A heavy toll on creativity
Like catching a fly mid-air
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There is a boiler
Down deep inside
In between my heart and ribs
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Deep sleep
Eyes bleed
Motionless movement
Lost in the deep
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I am 10 feet tall
Biceps 14 inches round
Thighs pushing 600lbs
Calves that resemble melons
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It is its own type of torture

The loss of words I suffer from
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Impossible to convince yourself
So you try to convince others

The need to justify your actions
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Crystals drip from the lips
Of spoiled profligates

Spilling forth bloodmoney
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Through the crag of my throat
Cryptic blasphemies poor forth

Peeling words like a lemon
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Last of the coatless days
Finished are the constant rays
of sun and smiles
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I race
I pace
I try
To save face
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Cold blooded
Wicked
Lonesome
Frozen
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Born into addiction
Smoke in young lungs
Old Granddad's whiskey
Rubbed on my gums
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Flourescent halos
Seem sterilizing to me

Flooding every hidden shadow
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What do her eyes see when she turns to look at me?

Do phantasmagorias plague her every waking moment?
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I feel it setting in again

Like the common cold invading again
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Sorrow for those who cannot observe and interpret written word

Why sorrow?
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Voices float around the room
landing on the lobes of my ears

Discernable and confusing
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Flutters pierce
Paunch

Despondent face
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