Wednesday, November 20, 2024

2.4584 : 11/20/17 : Taut

Taut like a drum
gluttonous and dumb
want to sing with a new voice
don't know where to get some
magic and grace
hipsunk in the rat race
a charicature
dumb look on my face
dim thoughts chase the rut
no-trick-learning old mutt
only Queen Mab on my mind
let her tell me what's what

what

Tuesday, November 19, 2024

2.4583 : 11/19/17 : The Skew

Fix the skew
and square the corners
though if I let it all collapse
think there'd
be no mourners
Still can't fathom
What the hell's the play here
just trying to
make ends meet
and stay clear

what

Monday, November 18, 2024

2.4582 : 11/18/17 : The Boys

Let the boys play
get out of the way
and I will try
for a quick decay
to the resting state

what

Sunday, November 17, 2024

2.4581 : 11/17/17 : Churn

Everything changes
but is it just churn
object or purpose
destination or return
and my own little transit
through the greater mess
does it matter how I feel
is it worth calling my distress?

what

Saturday, November 16, 2024

2.4580 : 11/16/17 : Book Coal

Book coal because God help me
it's still a commodity
Anybody left upstream
won't we be an oddity
So smart and so dumb
in strangely staggered measures
such equal parts obsessed with
and oblivious to our treasures
the rich are all nobodies
the thin edge of the wedge
the most obtuse ideology
dumb enough to call it a hedge
while the same damn sickle
mowed them all down alike
burned the dirtiest vein of coal
to build an electric bike.

what

2.4579 : 11/15/17 : Bounce

Just want to
spitball a couple
big new ideas
and bounce
quick fucking up
get stinking rich
lose about
a quarter ounce
maybe get
real spiritual
happy poor
and tripping balls
all make believe
sure I'll be working
and bouncing
right off all the walls

what

Thursday, November 14, 2024

2.4578 : 11/14/17 : Subsumed

How deep am I subsumed
in this mess devised
or maybe accreted
of flotsam comprised
well past mere backtrack
have to forge a trail
already packed to the corners
sure a sad travail
nice word maybe
a little on the nose
lost in the weeds
the words the prose
like to find a new angle
but for now for here
it's a matter of momentum
and not much to steer

what

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

2.4577 : 11/13/17 : Found

If I could get found
like the sheep I am
where would I get put
long last of the I am
Would you put me in a pen
or out to pasture
Will I graze grateful
On till my last year
What do I want
adventure? or content
how do I really feel?
like a bag of wet cement

what