Ya Figure?
A flippant toss of the genetic coin and there you are, be it lifting or endeavors elsewhere . . .
as humans under the ceiling we've been doomed to live withinour beliefs change no different from
the drying wheat and its urge
to become chaff
inevitable, wholly
natural.
Confessions of a Failed Zen Chef
I am eating food
I don't recall cooking and
live in failed hopes of not
remembering having eaten.
It's rough, I tells ya.
YA GOTTA LOVE
people who say
"This is a hard world."
as if they know another one.
Seriously . . .
I love lies, and that's why
I've survived this long.
I am eating food
I don't recall cooking and
live in failed hopes of not
remembering having eaten.
It's rough, I tells ya.
YA GOTTA LOVE
people who say
"This is a hard world."
as if they know another one.
Seriously . . .
I love lies, and that's why
I've survived this long.
Meanwhile, I am really liking this book:
A rimshot-based plea for help?
ReplyDeleteI hear your pleas and will continue to ignore them, but then, I DO have a messianic complex. You know, all that "as above so below" that covers divine deafness and the sudden lack of hearing that followed creation. That'll be me, or should I say, "ME."
ReplyDeleteLive now from fallen Eden, our on-the-spot reporter not named Peary Rader relays the latest . . .
"We're all fucked, and always have been."
Uh. Okay, Yes . . . Peary's been having some "issues" lately and we'll be taking a very short commercial break
of the serious non-comedic variety dealing with meds of the future . . ."
ReplyDeleteIf that don't put ya to sleep, nothing will.
Duh, ya lifts em up and puts em down.
What the hell more do you want!
he jested.
Sittin' on a powder keg waiting to detonate
ReplyDeletethem people called "us" are rather stressed.
This bed we made may be a dream, but hey
who gives a fuck and good luck now.
Goals
ReplyDeleteOn a road called repetition
desire is the driver
circling, circling
then ending again
here, where
we began, begin
and can never leave
these
amber dreams, petrified
yet somehow
still beautiful now.
Yawning, yawning
pawing at a keyboard
rife with the rot
of certain same-olds
sold for a soul.