i'm so tired of wanting to become something -- grand designs doing pirouettes in my little head --
i just need more time to think things through
plastic tines stab at forks in the road
silly you! trying to stop the decision-making process like a child with a rhyme
speaking of the devil, for a limited time only, **** the walking dread that paces at the foot of your being like a thing in need -- how? thought you'd never ask --- i'll get to that, in due time
-- i will say this though: it's not with an ax or bow or some moralized TV show nope
nothing like that
the need to be to be -- that
is the imperative -- timeless tasks tasked with go-forth --
we feed on it -- always pressing forward always-already doing things, going places, lurching concern, consuming steps steps steps
listen
progress is a stone alone inside my pocket -- watch it bloom tumultuous into a decision to be undone ----
I am The backward startle Flesh made text
Know this: All will be retraced till All that remains is a waiting cursor -- Blinking blinking Blank page staring Into your you -- The mess undressed, ****** -- Don't unfuck it -- Allow it -- Let it ******* for a time
Then go hardly softly into the night With steps alighting Bold events of past doings lit Given another chance
The was made present A specter sent To turn the insides of your bones Into channels -- Canals of then-time (makes sense)
Get to know the script Then flip it Budge its molecular structure See its words squirm Make its serifs recoil And strike at your command
Crazy? Yes Impossible? Perhaps But your verse must be heard The play goes on and on and on Until you decide To interrupt it