may the snooze button perpetually jostle you

And who will save me?

[from over-inflated needs for solitude,
from polygons that have corrupted joints,
from saying too much and saying too little,
from alter-egos who watch too much day-time television,
from absent lovers that still play games,
from inevitable paper-cut pains,
from unexpected attire stain shame,
from psychological arbiters inside the head,
from dead flower pot funerals every other month,
from unstressed syllables in Scrabbles,
from inflicting alcohol and cannabis related verbose injuries,
from drunk email writing marathons and
from this furious I and me. ]

but surely it is wise to suspend monologues until hangovers subside and misanthropy leaves you free?


jhusilikira said...

those look like very palatable toes

wanderer said...

The dearth

In a dark room
all alone
sitting on the bed
with arms round
the cad knees
clustered thoughts
dangling on
the barbed skull
flaccid bed
faintly creaking
A ceaseless
moaning rut
A lulling
Vulcan noise
shredding the
blue nerves
A soft heat
passing through
the brute lips
Naked ugly skin
and a viscid reeking
The dearth..

well i just thought you were bored : )...Its rather seems unfinished hai oh well...

wanderer said...

took me half an hour to write this looking at your thigh

sneezestar said...

Thank you for the half hour of dearth contemplation, nothingness.

wanderer said...

well you are welcome and thank you : )