Meeting a ghost
The convulsions of my body
if they are not waylaid
will give me away
that i am unwell
so to speak
The absent host,
that leaves the foyer of the body
Affects their own self deprecation, and self reprimand
in aftermath of manic disarray.
There is no one to tell
so they turn to the page.
sometimes noise is
better when no one can hear. in context, alexis, it is probs 114 degrees right now, outside.
i am in of doors, so that i may write. i do it becuase it is what i do.
there is a heart-patterned cup to my right, there is coffee inside, im the only human in the house and i like it like that. i am only in my skivvies and no one can interrupt me now
Sometimes people tend to freak out and fetishize the tpweriter, so i dont whip it out too often
I like the hot; and i will be outside soon eenough. it just dawned on me again that im living in a desert [metropolis]. im desert swain. and ive never liked the frequency with which ‘I’ appears on any given page.
No one knows this is happening. take that, internet. im not yours im mine.
sacrificer of enjoyments, malfunction, debunk hun, your stylistic effervescence shaded child in attendance, touching and not knowing how, being touched and not knowing how
Deeply multicontextual:
Socalled poets deriving, sieving substance, where it is invited to be sown
Make the most of each moment. Deleting is a dedication to the past – /deadication/
Bereft of affection,
alas the lack
I return your embrace, dear one,
with default reservation
Myself the magician,
am too my own assistant,
have hefted my self upon the copper spike
down which I presently slide
My dear parents squint in horror
from a distance conservatively vast