So many thoughts… ideas just breezed in, by. They come often in small waves, small rises but I have difficulty riding them, penning them. I always wanted a mini stenographer to type up my literary expulsions but they are often fast and foggy. Ideas are great and rewarding though the application is frail and full of folly. Fuck.
To another side came clouds and thunderous grayness billowing, spindling, rapturing ’round a child’s head.
A smallish child with pixie eyes. Jangling bow legs and squatting on rough sneakers that leech and ingrain into the grass, the earth. The child looks around bewildered and betwixt; onerous fog circling the bulbous skull, not a smell nor sniff yet. Tilting head and shoulder the child, half-male half-female, slowly, so slowly, walks down a glowing path. Dense green and amber specks silt languid onto unknown space…
From a life of servitude to useless fodder.
The poultry pharms are proles no longer, roles no longer.
Necessary to put them under, down and sunder, thunderous clatter among the squawks.
Iced in beasts become a burden.
Burdened no longer.
Bred to kneel to death no longer. Longer sentence cut for the covid.
Hate myself today, but less than I hate all those people else
I am an asshole
Angry from the birth of shit
Why’s it so hard to be happy yeah yeahy
Hate so impacted in me
What happened to the fun-loving-self
Lovely good boy
The days when we had everything
Is it fiction
Is it nostalge
Where did my real happy begin
In the adult phase the real work is mist
To follow the normals is to commit to plastic bliss
Am I just plastic pasted exist
Are we just aimless rotten abscess
Help em find me
motherfucker Muthafucka muthafuka mo
do they love me
do they hate me
do they fucka fuck my hole
Love it love me hate it hate me
Blaze that hole
Burn that skoll
end to end just obliterate whole
No be to thee nor to that
No lust for hills of gilded fawning
Trembling accords, grander graces
Those outer, bowing to other, give cheers and chords to status seekers
Harping for thine golden echelons singing praises
sipping n supping the quos’ mannered listings
Hierarchy matter makes steep staircased showing
Huzzah lustful princes n dames
High places n high stats do thee revel in
Ethereal n ephemeral, heavens lustre glittered
But human, oh so human art thee
Prided, gilded, guilted
Held up sombrely n loverly tiny worships you’ve implored
Large jests these largesse onto commoners so abhorred
Maketh matter maketh marred gods to suffer n endure
Sufficed for the times until new ones bear forth
Maketh new, maketh more