crunchy words

i wanted to get lost down unmarked streets me, my camera and all the other freaks well i dunno a better way to spend a day anonymity is such a subtle shade of grey i got big city vision, small town blues i remember empty places in the language i use my eyes have packed their luggage, time isn’t on my side cheap philosophers keep telling me i shouldn’t run and hide from conflict or the past with all its blunders my lens rapes and my pen likes to plunder all the dreams that i dreamed with a stolen head all the screams that you screamed when you noticed you were dead all the lies that we told so glibly to ourselves all the wallpaper we chose for our own private hells i feel far too far away today trapped in some remote fishtank haze singing dirges about donuts to their sugary wives while they wallow in the dregs of their sugary lives and you, you haunt me with a shipwrecked smile some toast and the ghost of your fatal child i bought a vegas mask from a junkie on the run with no time to tell the world whatever he had done he just coughed – listen brother, your song makes no sense and your ass is badly scarred by that barbed wire fence your lines have slowly slithered from the sane to the deranged your hairstyle’s fairly normal, but your eyes are rather strange i ignored him and snorted three vanilla pods and checked my rearview mirror for the shape of angry gods the scarab beetle hiding in the pocket of my jeans doesn’t give a damn what any of it means.

About ulla

queer. antisocial. verbose. View all posts by ulla

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