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VanessaRuePoems
every time I write vividly can’t end days yearn for epiphany malice their succession I don’t learn more of p o l i t i c s m e n in shoes w a r f a m i l y m a n n e r s r o t t e n y o u t h afraid of being water water that decomposes every day printed with i-service entropy if craic makes my soul modern I’ll wait for apocalypse wild devours my ashes each of my tea motes fight heave my tongue like embers humpty already fallen all the king’s economists still drafting recovery plans— asks to go to Nyos for silent rain on a government grant. all the king’s economists can’t put him together again. enlightening activist futility writing in a singed library at my diluted right edge I fear those who tower over me what if my decade has passed making a schedule each day to be better or to matter I suffer from anemia my tea is too sour gambling them to pay for meaning— who taught me to write and forgot to proofread when they ask my destiny I say: transcendence of arcana would restless lurching take me to God or Satan I need to ask someone modern
0
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 6:21 AM UTC
I'M IN LOVE WITH MY ECONOMY
every time I write vividly can’t end days yearn for epiphany malice their succession I don’t learn more of p o l i t i c s m e n in shoes w a r f a m i l y m a n n e r s r o t t e n y o u t h afraid of being water water that decomposes every day printed with i-service entropy if craic makes my soul modern I’ll wait for apocalypse wild devours my ashes each of my tea motes fight heave my tongue like embers humpty already fallen all the king’s economists still drafting recovery plans— asks to go to Nyos for silent rain on a government grant. all the king’s economists can’t put him together again. enlightening activist futility writing in a singed library at my diluted right edge I fear those who tower over me what if my decade has passed making a schedule each day to be better or to matter I suffer from anemia my tea is too sour gambling them to pay for meaning— who taught me to write and forgot to proofread when they ask my destiny I say: transcendence of arcana would restless lurching take me to God or Satan I need to ask someone modern
terrible niche if you get it, you get it if not, well, tough mary clutching confessions too woke for the raj bless her sunburned conscience we sip tea on verandahs terrible, terrible niche cheers, stiff upper lip
#4
VanessaRue
Written by
VanessaRue
16/F/Mumbai
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 6:21 AM UTC
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