objects collect around the computer
the brain forgets to let go
all the thoughts stall on the neuro
logical flow then sleep slides in,
sweeps me off my feet ah some warm
place, but nothing gets done to main
tain the living (as in a living)
I just manage, not even that, but dear
wouldn't you prefer the barb of light
to this fuzzy mold (unbelievably not
a product of drugged stupor) just
natural stupor all my own uh anyway
(I did attend the St. Stupid's Day parade)
that gunshot outside on the street just
woke me up dammit let me be just let me
