(2015)
nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
if you enjoy this pain, all expressions of it, being here compiled, then, yes enjoy them, but
dopplergangers in case you both explode, who knows it could happen, true love too qui… like a limerick, obvious stupid si… like things aren’t. also, angular
may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky
man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly
just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not
love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
stupid met crazy decided to have a baby or two... what else you gonna do?
root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live
.jpg)
