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.