Posts Tagged Fibonacci
None of My Business
When I thank people (for being
such an ass), I see
they get nice.
They don’t
think
I
know they
were being
such an ass, and they
think I might be a dumb, nice guy.
Being a Monkey in a Cave
Work is fine if I’m admired. Tell me I’m superb.
But really, I plop deeply down,
tan military
tank in car-
ribean
wa-
ter.
And when
there, I can
only keep digging
deeper. It gets darker. I hate
work and the bright realization of green worthlessness.
Sickly. It gets heavier. I hate
being a monkey
in a cave.
And when
wa-
ter,
turquoise-
red covers
my military
tank sinks, plopping me in casket.
Work is fine if I’m admired. Tell me I’m superb.
Opus 57
Born
down,
roughed up.
Enchanting
stories of music
penetrating deepest cracks of
holes in self made from Beethoven’s most ugly temper
simmering in baby blue bed.
Mother tears apart
confidence.
Drowning.
Red
seas.
In a Mix
Slam
it.
Screw it.
Which, who knows?
World’s mechanical
visions blur longing for quick death.
Shame, Slightly Diminished Today
Knocked
out
sickly,
light, facile
duties, as pride swelled.
Praise me, Mother, from your stark urn.
stillfugue 