God
I
don’t know what you want from me
Fuck
I
even hate myself for writing that
As
if it works like that
As
if anything works
Makes
a damn bit of anything
Beyond
the animal pit
Genes
and stomachs
All
of it
Gnashing
for leap frog
Cutting
throats to cum in the winds
I
wanted that feeling in her
Like
there was something more
A
hand to hold in the maze
Before
the guillotine
Fuck
it
I
wanted some cheese too
The
smell of it, the taste of it
Feels
like
Arbitrary
Just
oceans of indifference
Registering
there is no calling
This
urge
To
just be alone
No
point in doing
Beyond
the books or writing, art
The
day to night Rochambeau is tasteless
I
wanted to fling souls and wrap up in a greater blanket
That
there was a somewhere that touches here
And
I could feel it behind her eyes like a damn beacon
The
others nothing; just so much nothing
All
back to the inanity
Great,
can’t wait to file my tax return again this year
Do
something meaningful contribute
the pinnacle…
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