I feel the weight of the weird
and the strength of sad weaklings
as I crawl through the alleys
of childhood dreams.
----
I arise to the noises
of garbagemen retching
and I yearn to be trashed
until numb to the numbskull I've been and become.
----
Yesterday's misery
is mailed to tomorrow
as time disappoints me
once and again.
----
I'm malaise bloomed incarnate
in Kafkaesque shit storms,
drenched in digestion
of booze battered lineage.
----
I'm swamped in the ethos
of failed adolescence,
bathed in the strychnine
of putting up appearances.
----
I'm the muck that I'm stuck in,
cut on shiny shards of family
through the thick shag of sick
and the avocado bygones
of disco sad psychosis,
shot past present tenses
that haunt all my tomorrows
like an out of style spectre
cursed with everlasting shame.
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