Friday, November 21, 2003

here's a poem


You can fuck the goddamn shit up
ruin all of it
kill it dead, dead where it stands
whatever

still, walking away
your thoughts
are your own

guilt may stalk you
corner in dim light
against what reasons may come
in day

talk to the bottle,
your pard,
whatever

it's all the same
and dying is
only
name