I tried to speak to you this morning
there was nothing to convey
I’m going to have to go it alone today
another night with that fucking television
blathering away
I read two thirds of a book and
I have nothing to say - about
spending every moment isolated
until that great white someday
we need friends, conversations,
and dismal parades,
and real motherfucking
reasons to create,
so I celebrate my brain,
add chemical salts, deflate,
then start up first thing in the morning again.
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