I see your limp
I see your limpa mistaken word
flawed intentions going bad
mad with what goes
and in such a demand
in the end
it does not matter
one or two bits at all
whether you hear me or not
Tawny human ballrooms
skinny and boldly shining
brandishing their floors
to a constantly final future
there has to be pain
suffering and concluding burials
because the circumstantial cat
can only be skinned
in tomorrow's fictive streetlight
the ember of money
the sloshed target
the millisecond of owning
carries so much entropy
irreversibility is a forward processes
serving as a bleak measure
where the amount of thermal energy
cannot be used to do work
love is a condition
beingness slash
the source or a sanctuary
waylaid and on the side
fed with dead canaries
it's all in a no more
scrolled in violent silence
viewed in a burning totality
a very short no more time
and nothing more
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2014-11-28 at 00:11
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Peter J. Kautsky |
Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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