Thursday, April 29, 2010

a situation

hear the rain
see a thousand dead umbrellas
frame drowsy past hero inspirations
crave the heart of hearts fake ideology
retrieve snapshots of blurry nervous love
kill a squalling homage to my flawed adult self
sing sarcastically the edge of haves and the have not
regret the worst kind of emotional mediocre promise
bite little everyday paranoia lurking just below
turn to extreme dark dirgey lyric mixes
negotiate a kind of tribal throbbing
mute the sigh to somehow lusher
embrace the latest buzz
use your discretion
resist fragments

- See: Poetry

:: note :: ... april is the cruelest month ... Everywhere I go, I find a poet has been there before me. (Sigmund Freud) ...