Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Yenson Dec 2018
Tosh from turds, pig's swill from Honkers
faking Nationalities and accounts in infantiles guises
Gold medals cowards conjoining spurious ignorance
Lords of the pits ego-tripping imagined importance

The sons of David run monies and injuns the rest
Travellers from all points harvest progress in hot or cold
Living in the midst of home animals watching clowns at rest
Nurseries' life of flat ***** preening vainglory self adulation

Now the tall pygmies crawl to head proceedings usurped
Mud dwellers with manufactured wares in motarboards
Giving life's lectures in swivels drives with hemlocks brew
Ole King Coal now a cheap Caesar in rented Palace from Injuns

What impresses about kittens and paper lions in catalogues jeans
Gentrified slumers and three fatherless baby Sue-Can't-Say-No
Dole-Day-Tony and mates all on the warpath with street verbosity
Fluff sensibilities and impactless discernment in unity with illiteracy
Cumulonimbus May 2020
Maybe it's okay to sleep
to sleep
to sleep
to dream
to cry
to die
to fly
Maybe this immateriality
is real
is it?
is it
the falsity of fact
that caresses me with
nothingness?
Maybe this softness
this impactless
this empty
imaginary
empty
screaming
screaming hellscape
is good
...
if nothing is real
you cant be touched

Dreams are meant to be sweet
right?
Dreams are meant to be sweet
but I've always hated sleep.

— The End —