jueves, 8 de febrero de 2007

Poem III

Work in progress


Bad job experiences
stick to my hull
like barnacles hell-bent.
Corporate algae,
especially the sort
with a mind to it,
stench like fuck
and poison what could be
crystal clear waters.

Toxicity levels
are unusually high
these days.

The stream flows strong.
Fuckers come and go.
Easy-fuck, easy-die.
Cinicism is the new big.
Not a new idea, though.

Waiting for the spark
to start back again.





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