Why am I doing this?
Is it to somehow appeal?
Having a deep desire to,
Be exposed and living,
With many bland and empty arrogances,
Somehow it’ll be different with me,

Then when all is out there,
Did it make a difference,
Constant grief for the,
Great Thought that got away,

Why do I do this chant,
It all comes out as static,
What for are those,
Playing accursedly with loud dentures,
Flapping gums,
Getting points across,
Raising eyebrows,
Glancing back at what’s just gone,
Then, by will, carry one.

Feel the dream coming through,
Let it please be true,
Silently granules fall,
Between myself and the hall,
Let the bubbling not come afloat,
Burst and that’s the last thing I wrote.