a frustrated young individual
born of the late 20th century
sat down in their favorite cafe
buried in a borough of the big apple
with cigarette in hand &
a little memo book---
when you agreed to come
you were told that not many people would be here
you were told that no one you knew would show
you were told a lot of things
but now, as the door opens &
have you heard the shit festering
about the robot prostitutes in the making?
heard the christians & republicans
whining their way into a “debate”
Dark,Dark boy hidden behind the shadows in my mind the words you send me sound so deathly kind yet cruel to the ends of life you say I'd be better with my soul consumed by you, you say you'll take it
just a little ode for my younger sister, the Star Middle Child,whom, dont get me wrong, i love very dearly, but tend to find the constant comparisons between us just a tad too tedious =[.
Shortly after Trial and Error,. Involves a conversation between Serius and the hermit.
Some dandelions stood in a milk bottle in the centre of their table, trying to make their own world normal.
I tilled fields
under the shadow of Colossus
while Kronos fantasized my mind
and ripped open seams of the impossible.
And when the distant Sun had faded
beneath the wafting clouds and escaped
I stood with the Word,
And it cut into my flesh and blood,
stole away a sliver of slight spirit,
wrapped it with thought until I began to die.
I stood with a Word,
The trouble is the truth keeps changing, like everything else, like the tide and the sunset, like people change their minds, and you can never know all of it.
Let's start this simply and without fanfare, for now that I am able to write it down and present it to the public, he would have liked it to be nothing more than the truth.
their Mum and me,
leave the train,
to brave the rain,
out from the station,
been told there are signs,
holding hands and bags, and chair,