impatience is not a virtue, or so i’m told
‘impatience is not a virtue, or so i’m told’
hazily penitential for the crazily detrimental
vernal verdigris each time it’s sentimental
crumbling, rust red, no longer galvanic
attack of the panic organically manic
calm down to lark song, no stark wrongs
sometimes.
cavorting countryside sporting lies tacky
expected. all prevaricate like Frank TJ Mackey
vagrant apostles come and go docile
ardently pardon this passion, not hostile
ever.
posing life’s eternal koans, my own
conclusions buried in idle illusion
roaming the unknown in search of home
these eager delusions only beget confusion
always.
noom eht fo edis krad
‘noom eht fo edis krad’
reality has been
vacuumed up. reeled in like a wriggling
fish, every part must be considered individually
each existence a daunting thought. slippery as if covered in
scales. maintaining them an impossibility. more orange juice and
taboulé. nausea is settling in like an unwelcome house guest, the ceiling
isn’t helping any; why not stay still god damn it? actually that’s kind of cool.
this ought to be somehow recorded. out the window scuttle other existences,
about their merry own ways
blissful in their ignorance
now the wall bubbles at me
i decide who i am through the
choices i make as an individual
the weeds on the hill wave
hope they don’t come inside
reality has been vacuumed up
i let it out slowly creeping
along like so many feeling
tendrils to gradually reconstruct
a night like any other
the nameless faces of shapeless masses
amidst murmurs hefting plastic glasses
disdainful eyes flit around like insects
collectively finding new mates to impress
time gets murdered ever so thoroughly
never returns let it go unburdening
nothing accomplished just a feeling thereof
easier to be lush than do what you love
but if you don’t let it this feeling won’t hurt
just do what i do and sardonically smirk
then join in becoming yourself faceless
since all seem to be inherently graceless
