cospa

Things I carry, carry, Things I carry, carry, Carry, carry all through my life. Black, Heavy Keeping me down, down, down, down Down, down. Are they captors? Or are they guards? Did I make them, Or did they make me? Do I cling to them, Or they to me? Black black stone things Black black birds Wrapping me, holding me Stone without words. Black things, biting things Keeping me straight. Tiny little night things Pumping my hate. Made out of metal, Made out of stone. Tiny little hating things, Powerful alone. Tiny, biting, hating and Cold cold cold cold. They've never been young And they'll never be old. Are they c

I like to eat scones on a Sunday in the sun From noon until a quarter after three. I like to stay close to a bathroom on the beach Just in case I have to go and take a pee. I think that I have seen a shiny UFO One day down on the road down by the fair. And an alien all gray sittin' lookin' back at me With a shiny metal bow in his hair. Oh, man when I was young I thought that it was fun To think about the world outside my door. And other times I thought 'bout women that I knew And wishin' that I knew a couple more. I know that there are those who like talkin' to the trees And others who just listen to the ground. And some folk li

Oh for the sweet love of Christ, please shut the fuck up! Your tuberculin rattling cough and snores and wheezy gurgles ensure that your sleep apnea is catching. I nudge you. You seemingly swallow your tongue. You go silent. I feel guilty. Then you build into your next motorized chuffing, grating snore with a hydraulic whine. I hate you right now. I sigh and slam my leg down on the bed. Nothing. I lean over and look at your face, slack jawed and yet not vulnerable. I don't see vulnerability. Even though you begged me to come back, to pity you, to accept you--I can only see you as manipulator. You won't take care of yourself, and won't w