if i were an angel
i'd wonder
and if i were a debutante i'd be coy
if i were
someone who had money and influence and a false laugh and something to say
i'd be
half way to salem.
but i'm just drunk
and poor
and wondering what sort of flowers she wants
and trying to
reign in this
horrible
addiction
to being a martyr of sorting the 4 rights that
make me left
and
centered
and it's the new new
the lunar year
tonight
the moon tracked south and faded from
blood to the colour of anglo inadvertent misunderstandings
in the frost
whilst my face froze and i hated
not being
able to
ex posit on paper
the DT's, man.
the DT's.
i see sparks, nothing un~beautiful
but there is no fire. no want. no hope.
and fades into what we could only hope is the
steady cadence of
a running joke.
my angels fades on high and yet i am again and again drawn
to
new heights
in incorrigibility
look closely, assholes.
ReplyDeleteha ha ha, i like it
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