Wednesday, November 20, 2013



Perhaps it was just the lighting
it seemed I crumbled-- right there,
in the light stain in the corner,
light all over me, light over my whitened
skin but now I am unable
to linger.    Must go.

Ever since The Crumbling,
the constant electric inside
makes me
to kick : it is the medicine
and yet it still is.
I am high voltage
and there are many blinks.
You probably dont get it,
but anyways,


the boredom kills me.

For example it's a day my tights are warm
and striped and blah blah  
anyway. The day drips
slowly-- drop; drop
in the sink of the day.
How slow the day
is, how bored
the cows--

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