How long has it been?
Days, weeks, millennia?
Ways speaks to character
Methods of ingress
Or egress
Or regrets about time spent
In the pursuit of something wholly less valuable
Something less palpable
Less tactile
More senile
My words have hit walls at high speeds
Left bleeding on the pavement
Leading on the evening news
Amongst the views of corporate hucksters
And genuine accidents
Dodgy precedents set by corrupt intuition
What am I even saying
These nonsensical ramblings
Born of too much time and too little patience
Have swallowed my cognition
Until I dribble to a halt
The moon is out tonight