Eating
the fly
Songs
played on the perpetual radio of life in the underground
Continuous
motion of sound, static, buzzing and hymns of worship
You
seem perplex almost unkind your smile is untrue as if you are a walking lie of
selfish turnabout
You
expected more? A church of followers’ hanging on your contradictions
You
seems clownish now, a joke inside a joke who is playing whom
You
try to ride a certain darkness that you are in capable of possessing for you
lack the imagination of for thought; you’re a copy of a copy of a copy nothing
original
The
counter point at your side is the unoriginal dime store copy of fan favorite magazines’
all the words that are said have been said before …. As always and before
Boring
is a life style that you have painted fine colors of life with , you gain no
knowledge around you…. You just are uninvolved, unknown process of human amino
acids… all the talk of children in make believe land.
Your
colors bleed out in dullish grey even though you stand out like a peacock, in
the landing fields of winter white
You
have become ordinary, common and transparent as most humans normally do…
Vacant
and lost
Carrie
Ann Kawa 9/20/12
