Me? I’m crazy

Spinning around in here,

Webs as long as my ears

I’m just crashing into bookcases

And pissing on lawns,

I’ve got a fairly clear complexion

Just nothing behind the skin

I’ve taken a dive off the short pier

And tasting anxiety in every drop

Blood I swallow before

I hit the water. You dig.

I’m crazy. Me.

Rather be crazy than a cop.

Rather be a blighter than a fop, ain’t you, brother toby, brighten up.

Have you taken your own chances again, you old bastard, yer blood pressure’s going to drop, I can’t, I’ve had a right enough of you.

Make it stop. Can’t make it stop.

The precipice.

Body, score.

Poem. More?

You decide, you’re the reader.

I can only ever be the transcriber.

Take it from the outside, captured or creative, creature or not, they’re not going to like you.

Give it all you got.

How you think different, I want to know.

Leave a comment.


Leave a comment