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 Dec 2013 Kenneth Farward
islam
I don't want to be a writer.
I don't want to starve,
I don't want to go mad -but maybe I'm already there-,
I don't want to commit suicide,
I don't want to be homeless,
I don't want to be alone.
I don't want to be a writer.
What do writers gain?
Judgments, madness, aching heart and pain?
Tell me, what do they gain?
I don't want to be a writer.
I want to be nothing.
But what is life without literature?
What is life?
*Nothing
I thank Bukowski.
A chill pill
To neutralize feverish cold
Assaulting my body.
My temperature up in space
it's skyrocketed
but why's it that
am shaking so uncontrollably
like a leaf...

— The End —