You howl like a wolf
Yet I hear the bleeting of a lamb.

you of pharmaceutical lens,
Concrete handed
sharp edges rounded,
colours slandered,
you womb-safe,
blanketed,
bleeting sounds
non-threatening,
Shadow individual
Deodorant mojo,
the man-made park,
well governed hair
lips are moist and plumped up,
a conveyor belt human,
bowel movements and idle chatter are corporate losses,
Neglect that which is outside this Kingdom,
the office must remain hermetically sealed to ensure maximum shareholder profits
breathing in sand and time,
this here void of monotony,
numbly dispirited
poor food and no discipline (that's you),
face is sallow
sagging,
you are nothing,
not really,
your bonus will be paid at the end of this month.

Next time you're waiting
in a long, slow-moving line,
moo like a cow or bleet like a sheep
and see who is humoured
and see who is offended.

The most unfair thing I was ever taught
In my sorry little life,
Is that death is the only thing you can rely upon.

I was most upset to find that I was not transcendent
To all those fools
That succumed to the hands of death before me.

Why, I could kick and scream,
I could crawl and plead
But I still must make my merry little way

Back into the Earth I was born from.

And so life - what of it?
I know that I shall grow up and become an adult
And therefore more childish with each day.

And so why should I don those suits
That stifle my throat
And choke my idea of ‘I’?

Noon is the most sublime time
To emerge from dreams
and to be greeted by the sun

And not blaring alarms,
or bleeting chidren.
Thus, I yearn to write.

Not out of skill
And certainly not out of profit,
But to take back all of those moments

with my back upon the soil.
For when I am feeble and when I am spent,
I know by now that I shall regret

Not the moments with empty pockets
But the world that I lost
In a restless rush,
In a useless toil.

A lost lamb hides in its eye
waiting on the shepherd  to look through  it
blindness be not friend to sight
sight be friend to blindness

if not for you, my life would be empty
my stars wouldnt shine, theyd fail to align
my limbs would give out and droop like spaghetti

if not for you, laughs would be sparce
my heart lodged in my throat, voice bleeting like a goat
sound would be as silent as a **** from my ****

if not for you, i wouldnt know love
my mind would be mindless, time is what binds us
despair's cold shackles im finally free of

I earn my money, I pay my keep,
All the time feeling like sheep,
We follow the herd, we bleet along,
Tho whole time 'bleeting' to the same old song.
This doesn't feel natural, it must be wrong,
There has to be more,
than this plodding along?!

i scream my silence
creeping at the door to the sound of sirens
but since you know my essence
the teeth can only bite my effervescence
my presence calls into  soul science
here i speak the foul to defiency
love in ramble to the noises

i kept coming for the least
the beast of rage keeps east
off the keeping like writs
i fought off myself
like gods bits of wood
i woke up dead dead mood

imagine its nothing sweet
the father that kept sweating
and lost a child bleeting
imagine its nothing sweet
the mother that kept off the labor pains
to keep the pain off a deadbeat donor
keeping his offspring intact

i met a mother off the streets
i imagined the day she comes
come to a shameless man
with little byself
with all she has is beast of burden

i met a father off the streets
working his sweet off
to bury the wreckage
to come home to an unfaithful woman
but still wooed by her moans
i kept the smoke

by the streets is strict
by the rift we still shoot
by the knowledge yet
single handling not yearning

and I sit on a porch deck
chair
with the sun bleeting on me.
buy 2
fruit with masks and the cashier coofs

lay still you *****-  
foment the beach sun.
*** like a ******* miracle,
oh
I'm crying . bake it thru.  bake the death from it.
covid,
you shill and misanthropic venture. free us now. and walk on shallow streets


like     a    drug;                focused and
self-assured