My voice caught when attempting verbal expression. The draught dried up the last of my social connections.
Alone in crowded locations, I took my pad and pen
From whence I observed binary oppositions of strange proportion
Like the original lesson that a horse is a horse because it’s not a cow
I likened to metaphors overdoing like like a valley-girl like
the man on the corner isn’t sane because sanity isn’t homeless,
but such limitations,
made me crave deconstruction
like a literary composition
and realizations arose like the cheap-date rose
ephemeral life-line with a lingering scent
appropriate living is so 9 to 5 insane
madmen spitting abstract wisdom so profound
they split conforming thread-lines
dissolving man-made confines.
All this I heard and weave with my words
Hoping to make as much non-sense as these ostracized souls.
» Touch |
