just remember we are so much more than words. shadows are beautiful too but let’s not

here in the middle of the bottom of the lie how obvious

reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.

you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use

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

finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center

a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...