This is a life
is it?

Sitting here
doing
watching

why am i
waiting
anyhow

I am frightened
by this question
renderedededed

I am square upon
the wind
and the wax

this accumulating
racket
of t ime

all the noise that's fit
to hear that
i hear that

i am that
noise
unless

time smirks
space yawns
and relaxes faster

and this inside
of bad making good
sense

lives today
smiles on us
is warmth

and i smell
of tomorrows
lust

all these nerves
all these neurons
need to make sense

of wetness
of a hardon
and there is no sense