I'm dead.
And so are you.

I feel blue.

You feel it too.

I clocked in and rested a bit of work against my knuckles.

Bested,

I stuck a nest of broken bits under the chin of our
prize-winning sinner.


I gurgled and brimmed about happy.

Knacked, I wont be.

Around me, garbles can't see.

It just is.

Just.

Just what WILL BE.

I welded slugs of over shelter knacker violence.

Trapped.

Black clack boards caked in chalkboard soot.


Moot, black big heads.

Stacked on dead little sticky bodies on overcooked baking racks.

I'm acting as if lack of laurels is never the be and end all
of who is and ever was.

Crispy.

A list maybe...

Crispy air.

Crispy chips.

Crispy toast.

I felt so old so long ago.

And I'm a lot older than I was then.


I sang my saddest songs when I was happiest.

But I was young.

I had no sense of 'when.'

So, I banged out hours and hours of labor,

and logged away notebooks of independent thought.

"Naught" is not like how I felt.

I searched for a more creamy meaning.

Something much more,

And easy-swallow-snot-knot that doesn't have to fight for a feature
on our front page, caked in anti-anarchy pastry and high-fructose ****-stirrups.

Glow....

Row your boat about in an ocean of red...

Blood red molten soul

whirling and dipping

out over and under.


So....

Stand fast and crystalize ligature knots,
epoxy blots
cake frosty fast
everlasting feeling.

I know...

Planned, meals hold fat and
taste much tastier when the
hotness held in porcelain dolls,
and mattresses of food go good with
however well our day went.

I'm spent.

And so are you.

So eat.

And Pay.

Please go home.

So I can go home too.

This past weekend I had scheduled an afternoon craft class,
this past weekend I did, as a chance to see and say
all sorts of fun stuff with my buddy.

I best buddy I had held in my heart for years,
the sort of meatbag that'll make you think,
but won't make you text.

So, I held fast the next week after classes were cancelled and I never got to see my friend.

So, my week ended and, and my gut was more wrended that I'd planned on.

Funny, moved on as I passes,
through all the gunk caked on my classes,
I was still able to see, and to speak,
so to speak.
so I sung.

Really hard.

I gave hell.

Heart heat held enough
to burn up every crux,
cornerstone breakapart brackets
tacked up and held up
with stickers and shushes.

misses and muffles,

strangers,
and a stifles,
carbohydrates and rifles.