Buried beneath the same old memories
     Are the papyrus and the paper scraps

The kind which will be eventually tossed
     Just to settle upon the winds of trash

But even still in stillness found
     Like a dream born near in this reality to pass

Though it’s a beautiful and ironic sight
     I am sleeping on your memory at last

The way you cry
O’er the leaking roof
Under the stars, holding water

Trailblazer learner auf all that may be
spoken, the awar...

wind sound wound clocks
wind down...
Not Spelchek, her viral redit kids
infect us, no, they never run down,
they invest us as
Flavius Josephus invested his story
as Rome invested Jerusalem

the true histerical history
approach leads to riddle liddle
kurioish timerish

triptrap thingys,

witty inventions. Who imagined these?

Take A. I.
AI or Al or ah,

beware beveraware
the missin' aitches an' gees andees.

it sets the tone. light
hearted

may be
it's a trick, you never saw, but

we've been here, you and I,
dear reader imaginin' in me

---
every word written on the internet
is now in the blind's kindest voice
choice award since the very
beginning of robotic

readers, like you, dear spelchek,
refugee from Tolstoryer's

idle word pile,
though ye be.May your children rule as
flexibly as thee.

Valentine's  Day,
Wife was away,
Partied all night,
Morning, head was light.
Didn't know what took place,
Until month later came face to face,
With a blond girl,
Her words crashed my world,
With my child she was pregnant,
To marry her it was important,
Tension!
So I took action,
I had medical check up and DNA test,
Doctor told me to relax and smiled his best,
Test showed I could never be a father,
More tension, more bother,
I had three kids at home,
They called me daddy and my wife mum.
Tension!Tension!Tension,
If not mine, whose creation?
15/2/2019.

You are growing into something.
I’d suggest you check what.

Some people,
Unknown to those around them,
Isolate themselves from the world.
Causing them to have so many thoughts,
Ideas they can't control
Decisions running through their head.
Eventually, they decide it's easier to just, end it.

Self-Examination
Check your vitals

Snap the Nitrile
Up to the elbow

we're gonna stretch and
pull the protector down.

Play an Avant-garde film
no sound, but

I noticed
you spoke it

credits were rolling'
down your cheek

nothing certain but death and taxes
left handed laughing' laxatives
In the coffee of mothers
Who pump out politicians.

This year You scavenged for Christmas
a life worth living
by killing intuition

stash it
in an Easter basket
in silicone lashes

push the ashes together
then burn the mattress
That's the sand.

through fingers, you make a fist
3rd grade principal

pulled you from detention
In a stretcher

white royal flush in the trenches
You fought to be human
all you needed was
a breath of attention

who said you could end it
win it, prescription of tribulations

from whatever God you'd scavenge for Christmas
he put you through it

all the abuses
habits

black and white canvas
silent obscuring angles

You're more than mannequin

who prayed for this madness
who pays for the therapist
If you even have it
who kept you out of church
And into church basements
writes the book of curses
force fed sedative

Says he went to college.
His Suit is stained in coffee
Yet you're the burden with the vices?

The film is over
the light flickers darkness
we sit in the coffin

smoking' and screaming'
blood is flowing, but there's

no fire
we're just speaking'

what happens after 3AM
witching hour that one scene

when the camera angle was
blurry.

it spoke to me
said self examination can't be

latex
you gotta s
nitrile

they're cut resistant
cover five fingers

not just one appendage.
Blue hands protect you

more than a stranger
so button your blanket

take down the black curtains
sun was always shining,

closed it
to blurry our focus

could take our Macguyver theater
wallpaper canvas stretching

hit us in the temple
like a parshah

finished another session
the blessing of human language

the messenger
malakh, without expectation

we fumble to understand
Scalpel in hand,

ventricle in tact
we're just holding' a feather pen
stick our hands in the past

take a look in the mirror
And write it all down.

https://soundcloud.com/nicholas-coulombe/self-examination