Monday, 27 September 2010

happy birthday Joe Stohlman

is it a tick?
or is it a tick?
or am I imagining it's a tick?
I am punctuated with
severe pauses that
force thought of empty thought
strangled artistic endeavor
this page, my words are
released into the mind space
in patterns of delightful
at the same time I am ruined
by my own lack of thought
I can't think
there is only a feint buzzing now
drowned out by the incessant ringing of my
ruined ears
I am a scared puff of whirling
unwilling to save myself
from being formed into
rings of
unnecessary candor
flailing out my grey fractal thoughts into a pit
which I made for myself
so I can sit, and be

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