I blame myself I could blame others but I’m always around I’m the boss I live and I’ll die here when folks say, he was always here so they built the place around him, I’m the one they mean
I’m inside a fortress, a factory, an organic domicile, a whore house of Bukowski-esque proportions, university of the mind slum of the will an amusement park of a coliseum with a sewer down its middle
Having been given a ticket I missed the event I was there at the start but I got distracted allowed myself to get distracted I saw what I thought were prizes spoils for the victors and didn’t want them didn’t want to sell out to Big Poetry become another professor with nothing to profess but my own brand of pabulum toil inside my head for nothing so I toiled for someone else inside my head for coin of the realm and here I am unable to reenter now the second half has begun
I know what I don’t like there’s a certain look and I see it in the mirror so my reflection is a stranger if that makes me a vampire then so be it feeding on myself kidding myself I don’t need your approval that my work is its own reward and I’d write my mind even if there were no forum but we all know an exhibitionist without an audience is just a dirty person in search of a shower
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
The world of viruses come With lots unwanted gum. Quick Heal is a family album Where I can reject all scum And freely continued my rhumb. Viruses for all are season autumn, Looking into browsers is alum, Inserting memory cards
In the world of viruses criminatory Quick Heal is the best category Which I chose as my advisory And freely continued my story. Viruses made my PC dilatory; Looking into browsers defamatory, Inserting memory cards accusatory, Unsafe browsing was dormitory
Now you call this living ? But what is living without loving ? And what is love but a verb ? Nothing more than a misconstrued word, Taken out of context by the world. We all strive for happiness . And society tells us