this poem not sure what it wants to be
sitting quietly flummoxed by opaque
dreamscape scraping scraps from
begging bowl *a pot induced lack of soul
(*SOMA by any other name)
evil pot doc – the main side effect is psychic constipation
near dead poet – sign me up!
but i am making a comeback through
the mundane chopping wood watching
screens calls to BELL TDCANADATRUST
ROGERS NIRVANA ROOFERS R’US have
ground a once proud flowerchild to dust
but don’t cry for me argentina i commit the
pact of faust daily with an e.coliridden samsung
capturing + nailing light to my wall little immortalities
+please do excuse me while i fuck the sky
*Soma – the happiness pill of the brave new world..
“Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the
overcompensations for misery. And being contented has none of the
glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness
of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt.
Happiness is never grand.” (