I'm addicted
to doing nothing
or flushing my life away into the plastic ocean to swim with cigarette ends
and endless bottle caps
and a corked archipelago
stained the colour of ethanol blood
all the while telling myself that it'll work out
living your dreams in your imagination
is ok
when it's as vivid as mine
or yours.
I once read
that Einstein worked 4 hours a day
and he was a frizzy geinus
so why shouldn't that be true
of me or you
i ask myself
though i know i know sure, i know
it's all conciliatory lies
comforting shameful delusionary conciliatory lies
and yet it still remains
the rational defense of a lazy beanpole
trapped for a quarter century
in what if's and drowning imaginary possibilities
and christ
what if you actually make it?
Tag: word
Fuck you
sip on my watermelon nectar
sit down and watch me
make a fool of myself
singing to JT you cringe while
I'm in my element element basic 00's element
you know you feel it
nodding your head in a secret ashamed guilty groove
my homeless hair swaying
prancing through the fairy air
as we sip gay gordons
through llama and cactus straws
sometimes you cry
and I cry too but we do it together
shut out the backwards falling backwards criminally insane indoctrination nuthouse world
pretend it's not there
for a moment
we exist in this outrageous space
multi-faceted as joseph's coat we pass
through
screaming haemorrhaging gacking fracking
deep the buried joy we'll find
love and joy and togetherness and not giving a shit
we'll know forevermore
because fuck you
depressive black beast always
we'll get you
and shove you deep up your own hollow vacuous rectum
never to return
motherfucker fuck you
RJP's Vernacular 