Blog Archives
Brain Rain Always Drifts into the Gutter
My tableside window
Is my window to contemplation.
See,
It’s a metaphor2 squared
Square window.
Now, an intangible entendre.
And outside
Birds break
Dance under
Photonless
Strobes that
Cut their
Movements
Into choppy
Here ‘n there.
They dance on square
Sidewalks
Where squares
(like myself)
Drag their feet toward
Lassoed destinations.
Where mists of noiseless nicotine
Repel like Red Seas
from the squareground sidewalk:
Dragging squares
While dragging squares.
And it hasn’t rained,
And the ground is covered
With ass hair
And leafy dingleberries.
And all I can think about
Is thinking about
Thinking,
Which is like
Masturbating
To pictures of yourself
And never getting-off:
Epistemology pornography.
And I use a colon
To push extra bits
Of mental manure
Onto this porcelain-white page-potty.