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~for teach~ tell me, are you ok? yeah, more or less; like everybody else, wires get crossed, static builds up, the speakers bleat when they should blat, and you try to stop thinking, cause why hurt yourself too much? what’s wrong? nothing to specific, that seems to be the problem, like aches and sharp pains that come without reason, on a schedule all their own, no prior consultation, permission slip sig forged, so badly, it’s insulting it’s 3:14 am, woke up with headphones on, every tune, reandomly selected, saying, only the lonely, solitary man, miles to go, it’s probably me, long monday coming, gonna spend it looking for the summer now look at this, me done wrote another impoverished poem, just by stringing together song titles that were selected just for me by an artificial intelligence, it’s closing time, in the fields of gold, prine singing a blues lullaby, just for me, so I won’t have to think so hard for an answer to tell me, are you ok? me? got no complaints that ain’t my own fault, my guilt is plugged in always charging, sleep comes in dreams of many colors, eclectic eclipses, electrifying and elicited, words come spilling so easy, pre-selected, elocuted and executed, with madding ease. two more lines, then calling it quits, but at least got an answer, why for me it’s so easy, the being hard <> 3:32am and the moonlight so bright, it’s making shadows on earth, left behind like good graffiti announcing I was here, maybe I’ll find these words, when I wake up, wonder who wright these, twasn’t me, I’m a sound sleeper, can never remember, dreams, or nightmares, even those in technicolor, wake up a blank slate, to see, gotta answer somebody’s question, if I’m ok?
0
Sep 7, 2020
Sep 7, 2020 at 3:44 AM UTC
are you ok?
~for teach~ tell me, are you ok? yeah, more or less; like everybody else, wires get crossed, static builds up, the speakers bleat when they should blat, and you try to stop thinking, cause why hurt yourself too much? what’s wrong? nothing to specific, that seems to be the problem, like aches and sharp pains that come without reason, on a schedule all their own, no prior consultation, permission slip sig forged, so badly, it’s insulting it’s 3:14 am, woke up with headphones on, every tune, reandomly selected, saying, only the lonely, solitary man, miles to go, it’s probably me, long monday coming, gonna spend it looking for the summer now look at this, me done wrote another impoverished poem, just by stringing together song titles that were selected just for me by an artificial intelligence, it’s closing time, in the fields of gold, prine singing a blues lullaby, just for me, so I won’t have to think so hard for an answer to tell me, are you ok? me? got no complaints that ain’t my own fault, my guilt is plugged in always charging, sleep comes in dreams of many colors, eclectic eclipses, electrifying and elicited, words come spilling so easy, pre-selected, elocuted and executed, with madding ease. two more lines, then calling it quits, but at least got an answer, why for me it’s so easy, the being hard <> 3:32am and the moonlight so bright, it’s making shadows on earth, left behind like good graffiti announcing I was here, maybe I’ll find these words, when I wake up, wonder who wright these, twasn’t me, I’m a sound sleeper, can never remember, dreams, or nightmares, even those in technicolor, wake up a blank slate, to see, gotta answer somebody’s question, if I’m ok?
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Sep 7, 2020
Sep 7, 2020 at 3:44 AM UTC
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