Sunday, April 08, 2007

It's suddenly occurred to me how I cannot be honest,
how, how, how after the drought a deluge of words,
a length of time I get so __________ choleric
about nothing to _________ with and everything _______ I've completely lost
Of things we _________ and shouldn't do to make it ________
you're right, it can't sustain ____
and it's not fucking poetry the way we write it
It's just not fill-in-the-blank
something I am Half of
and I want to turn off my _______
stop beating
(Staccato, is that Italian?)
you don't take me _______
just don't _______ me
Nothing is ever beautiful and true
Then write _______

- the brink
by @ 3:13 PM