Thursday 26 November 2009

#33 - Too Happy To Write

I glimpsed infinity once -
dull as a circle.
Contentment has no flaws to clutch
your cleats into

and for that reason
I'm out.

Whenever a girl ends a relationship with me,
I feel the ringing in my ears
and the cold surge at the front of my cranium
and I think:
oh good,
I can use this to curry favour
with an audience at a later date.


When things go well, I get edgy
as a wireframe dodecahedron.
There is no grist in this pleasant
candlelit dinner,

I tell myself,
and pass the shitting salt.

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