*

temp. dropped
some 50 degrees
overnight this week
now it's trying
to pull another
Indian Summer
while i'm debating
within my self
struggle
on how
to make art
into some
ways to at
least sustain
life on
and i don't
think it's possible
to create art
for subjective
catharsism
and also
gain any
type of capital

don't quit
the day job
get the day job
and be too tired
to do the art

forget it.
i'm going
back to the couch.
it's cold.
the sun is
even acting funny,
like it comes out
and is warm
for awhile
then gets cold.

Walruses all beached
up on the coast
due to lack of ice.

coo coo cahoo
the world
keeps turning
and i keep
fighting
the top spin
and i never
will win
but i have
to find
the peace
to lose
in grace

sometimes
i don't wish
to be here
on this crazy
revolving door
called
a dying planet

since i have
little choice
in this matter,
i will once
again search
the box
for more
stories
on cavers
digging
the graves
of the gods

shoot me
this person
self-destructs
in one...two...
three...

how to get
rid of that
burned out
disillusionment
hoping it will pass

pass
pass
go
collect
200
and
lose
lose
with
the
twin purple
losing buildings
with the old shoe
and mrs. white
just powedered
her spitoon
with the H
factor
in hell
sterilie
stiff ol bitch
with her
candlestick
showing little
light
at this
time

and i'm out
world for now,
while i think
i may give
it up,
the cause,
the writings

and just box
them up
all pretty purple
bows
for my daughter...