Nothings
Don't be afraid.
I'm looking at you this way because I'm cold. Cold? No, just old. She is gnawing.
My stomach growls. That is all. I would like to be seen and heard.
Are you ready? The categories call to her as we play while I like it all mixed up. We switch places in our real lives, of course.
I just woke up in this body one day.
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I have put on my
thinking cap and am now ready for thoughtful inaction. He squealed as the thought of a purple leprechaun now living in your butt (already containing everything) because it became far too much. There is a lightness to this place that is sensed most when you see the deer right outside the door. Taking out the trash makes me feel like a good man. Like I am paying homage to all of those TV show Dads and the can. |
Just then, as I
decided to feel lucky again, I smiled and shouted, "Fuck it all to hell!" He keeps changing his name while saying, "Take your vitamins." Is he alphabet impaired? Just because the
lights shine doesn't mean it will or won't be all right. Wink! That is what I say.
Wake up and wink everyday. Ha, ha, ha. |
The rusted places on
my soul are crumbling. Can you hear the clanking in the night as these chains shift? Now I am gone. I was trying to back the fucking car up without running over that damn cat while she sat shotgun laughing at me, the spatially impaired sculptor, in action. We keep going through it. Taking one step at a time. It's like grown-up hopscotch. Jumping but without admitting there is less reason or rhyme. |