Friday, December 11, 2015

The suicide rate of the elderly is rising.

I stand in the human highway and feel the vibrations of the train above me. The foot steps of those walking beside me heavy with their stories, marching on to where some place justifies its existence wit how many people go there.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Let me tell you what it's like to be inside my head:

I'm not the boy peering through the window, I'm the man sitting there in the cafe watching and listening, listening and watching. Like some creep, I suppose some think of me. If they only knew how much better than them I really am. Admitting my superiority is a mistake, so from now on we're gonna go on like I never did, like the way I talk to small people who are offended by that sort of thing, like this book is a bible where some God, not me, is the real source of information, and so should be the target of your scorn.

Let me tell you what it's like inside my head:

I'm not the boy peering through the window. I'm the man sitting there in the cafe watching and listening, listening and watching, watching you. Like some creep, so they say. If they only knew how much better I am. Admitting my superiority is a mistake. From now on we're gonna go on like I never did, like the way I talk to small people who are offended by that sort of thing, like this book is a bible where some God, not me, is the real source of information, and so should be the target of your petty scorn.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Let's split the night between the two of us
If if the silence begs a whisper

Reap the silence for a dream, and then lets
Split the dream between the two of us

See the darkness in the sunset, see it
For the darkrise that it is in the time of

Visions in the noise the real, and
The flesh the ghost