I'll Be a Story

I'll be a story,

and you be a book,

quotes and underlined in the italicized sun

who cannot think but only flows in occasionally poetic prose

and nonsense

blabbers

but with a true meaning behind it all, at least that

can

be

supposed

And from the unkissed (truly)

mouth and teeth and tongue spew words of fire

or bleak nihilism

or bitter 

or light

dark

day 

night

good

bad

sadly gad

monochromatic

monotonous spitting rhymeless

rhythms amidst rhymes

and the happy

happy

happy

good

content is all and peacful heavens

sent

but then the burning arises from the hell

that lies around wherever

on the ground

picked up on already muddied shoes

by pain

and sorrow

lovesick fear

and loneliness

all for much too long

and also captured is the in-between

which never seems to surface all to often

but  altogether more frequent than the happy

and in that lies the static fuzzy meager semi-poetic

bullshit

of latter-days

so in so so many evenings spent losing sleep

and heart

and hope 

there rests the constant image of a dimly lit office with a flatly abrupt and tisking keyboard

as keyed away

are the hollow emotions of a moody nobody

wishing to be somebody

for somebody

by the people

for the people,

and yet they all went "whee, whee, whee"

all the way 

home.

But the author still remains 

lost and

alone.

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