an experimental poem derived
in automatic writing beyond the midnight
work steals away the days
and i miss my laziness.
i do not miss my ignorance.
i do miss my trust – my rarest treasure –
i used it all up: a life-time supply gone —
just like that!
my realism’s been distilled into a cynicism; a bitterness no syrup in the spoon can mitigate; i swallow it down.
i have a trust investment advisor now.
they tell me who to invest in, with and for:
no one?
i do miss my strong body
and his;
how it can all go to shit in an instant
how it does all go to shit in an instant:
liar. cheater. embezzler. addict. gambler.
drunk driver, ladder, mass shooter, assault, tick, cancer.
a penny for my thoughts?
— can you afford that?
my thoughts, a penny each — i am feeling generous, and extend you a discount.
so you want to be rich?
or, you want me to be poor?
i will deposit my thoughts in you,
i will spend my thoughts on you,
and you, we, love,
will be so full, so wealthy.
you, we, will never go hungry /or thirsty/
or be too cold, ever
or too hot – except intentionally
i, we, will go for broke, but not break
or, rather, let’s not break at the same time, honey;
i can go first.
no, you.
eat and drink my thoughts, and i yours.
but my pleasure is in your dessert.
i am a mouthful – a mouth-full.
Continue reading “Penny”



