born in 1973
its
like
i
clocked-in that day
and started
doing my time in the universal mind
or mine . . .
like
it
was
some kind of job - chipping ideas and bullshit
off the scarred coal face
that
represents
time / maybe / maybe not . . .
maybe it represented opportunity !
and
i
couldnt
swing
the pick hard enough
to
get
me
a
big
boulder of future . . .
i had a toy pick but a madmans sweat
and
i
shovelled
any
slivers of rock ( time / opportunity )
into dog eared notebooks
all
in
a mad dog rush
like
a
hoarder / like i knew i might need them
later
on
like a christmas club account
dunno when clock out is
but
its like
i'm
having
a
long
slacker
lunch right now - counting my eggs
and
digging on my own time
i used to
nurture
the
darkness in the mine / in lifes hole
like it was a boss / a bosses arse !
like
i
had
Stockholm syndrome
i was a baby servant of darkness
and things have changed after lunch
now i've eaten
i'm digesting / thinking slowly
like
i
caught
a
new illness just as my rabies cleared up
and
its
like
now i'm off sick - not just a slacker lunch
and
theres
a
peace in the fog / the hospital fog
its like i'm in hospital . . .
fog
came
in
with
the
all the birds that came home to roost
landing
on my shoulders
and
not
minding
their claws at all
and
the
food
here ( my new thoughts maybe . . . ) -
the steamed hospital dinners
give me
the same benevolent flushes
i
used
to
scorn like an evil drunk clown
back
when
i
was
a
baby servant
of
darkness
from activistpost.com
