A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
It's February forgive me for not dining on the buffet that is addictive chocolate severed blooms destined to wither in heart shaped vases, stored in dark, hidden coves of souls for months, to years, but...unrelated... Hollowgraphic Socialism bad. Capitalism good? Socialism bad? Capitalism good. Been bouncing ideals on my tender knee mindlessly ignorantly eternally Farmers need 4 dollars for a crated Styrofoam carton of eggs Electric cars no go in this climate prone to snow Can you bounce that? Too heavy. Get out of the way. Where am I going with this? Don’t speak to them? Don’t speak to me. Candy for them. Liquor for me? Interactive role play. Candy crushed? Live internally? Don’t live in this reality, because we're all pawns in a holo- graphic universe try chewing on that? and what the hell is that supposed to mean? when we are made of chocolate when we die as red roses? we brightly ingest we burn for surprise of wondrous, torment of perfect, dilated eyes we fail and find dirt? sorry, it had to end this way this is only the beginning of the end i could have sworn I was real i really thought you were, too who am i to say? i'm no cosmologist or physicist but practicing behaviorist winding my way through the sewage to get to dry dust. this must be survival? 2.3.23 something random and epic (like the shared song) that's pasted from multiple poetic efforts that come up short on own, lacking a hook like the vocal warbling of the nice TTB singer lady. I can add, edit or delete later, since this is all real and yet not. No, feels kinda dun. and that's about as heavy as it gets...add whatever emoji to dumb down as I sundown (sorry, I tried). Can't make it better. Is this where the poem ends? Or did it end on me when you stopped reading?? my apologies to Tedeschi Trucks. Blog space is limited. |