Evening On

 

 

 

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

Roll myself a joint, shower
get dressed and split.
Take the bicycle, stop, smoke a bit
and ride; get there, pace, talk to
the fuckers, listen to the music.
No friends.
Toostunned to complain.
Go home, pace, I want this summer
to end. I can’t sleep, on my bed a window,
in the window Easton, look through the
window. He tunes in to a monologue ‘It
would have been better if I had gone
that far.’ Don’t get it. It’s like that book I’ve
been flipping through. Only here.
The white sign, empty sign
your soul lips isms, dicks
Get on. Get off. No dream.
arbitrary fixed in the S of all
Keep on. Keep in on, dahling.
over –beyond –above, the hypothesis that
matters against manifold logical
exclusions. More than you would
have me believe. I’m preserving
energy. I keep mysterious and therefore
more interesting. It makes sense.
UnFazed. Two- faced.
Right.
I am there.
I never arrive.
I forget.

Bogdan Puslenghea

 

 

 


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