I had a supply for two days.
Did 'em both tonight.
Fucking dumbass me, I get to scrape my spoon tomorrow and try to get whats left so I don't end up sick.
we got winter storms and we're gonna be snowed in, too..
so I write..
Did 'em both tonight.
Fucking dumbass me, I get to scrape my spoon tomorrow and try to get whats left so I don't end up sick.
we got winter storms and we're gonna be snowed in, too..
so I write..
A needle which pulls not a string
clearly connects not a thing.
It creates holes which meet,
like old friends they greet
your arms 'til they look like the sky.
And push you do soft, with your thumb.
The gradient of blood does become
your dinner for one, red like summer sun,
enlightened: the sum of your journey.
Wretched muscles who play twitch and bite,
deem me sole guard of the night.
The toilet: the treasure, the vomit I measure
comes birthed from my stomach; delight.
Neither prose nor emotion explain
the joy of my substance obtained,
hedonistic pleasure and nihilistic treasure;
the me and the now are what's great.

