| invalid |
[26 Jun 2006|12:59pm] |
what my tongue may not navigate
pours out of me in sweat or swear
words who neither much improve
my position at all. and
laughing only makes me look
like some kind of asshole...worse
things have happened to impersonators,
and, afterall the work does not
do itself (wait & wait) and
we, so, then, lump ourselves in with
however many others it takes to assuage
the grief of what it means, finally,
being human as
the sun is coming up again and again,
even though, you know, the end and all.
what mystery cannot sate i havent yet
met & hangers on look forward with the
same kind of hopelessness as Pavlov's
dogs.
|
|