its
easy
isnt
it
to
sit in a burger pit
in a weird mall morning
like limbos own waiting annex
and
judge
the flaccid clientele there
in market tops and nowhere trousers
while eating
the same grease as them
and
me
with no job to go to either
only pad
and a pen
to
draw a line between
my self-induced
higher purpose
of writing-slob delusion
and their assumed
salted earth
stone-clad grief hole
well
i
cant
help
but
imagine the uninspired misery
and stubborn catechisms
of modern povertys tv-dull minds
stinking
like
unseasoned hamburger
in their laminated
galley kitchen arena
and
any pledge i make
to look with kinder eyes
into their potted grey rainbow
may
last
14 seconds
as
disgust and sadness
gives empathy and charity
a good slop out
in the dredged canals and prison troughs
of
my
feedback loop
ego jag
brain pan
pic from daveandjames.com
