I saw a hearse on the way to work today
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Bruised fruit Bruised stub of a fag
And Anyway
I am a Thursday And I am a dog
You turn fuzzy All flea like Swarming
my growth is stunted by seasons that collapse like lungs choking on soggy air drowning in and upon and at the hands of myself
God, I cannot wait for the rain I’m dull bored swarming in a layer of sweat
Nancy bought kitchenware obsessively little rows of silver she’d polish until she could see right through x-ray her own liver
It’s an inherently selfish thing to be sad.
