Poetry

This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.

  • There’s nothing that makes my day more than the way dogs perk up when they see me

    Someone happy to see me

    It’s nice for someone to be happy to see me

    I whisper hellos trying to stop the owner from hearing

    I don’t want to talk to people

    Dogs only please

    I feel wanted for a moment

    It’s nice to feel wanted.

    I like feeling wanted

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  • I miss you

    Your music takes me home when I’m stuck waiting for a bus

    Astoria is my soul song

    I wonder if I’ll ever be in the same room as you again

    Or if I’ll ever hear your voice for real

    Wouldn’t it be lovely?

    Perhaps one sided

    I wish I could be everything to you that you are to me

    I wish I could be

    But you don’t need a me

    When you have everything already

    Maybe it’s you who isn’t worthy of me

    That’s a laugh

    I just wonder if I could be that to someone else

    As broken and beaten as I am

    It’s a question of worth, really

    You who is magnificent

    And I who has nothing to give

    Is the cost of worth your soul?

    It’s hard to be this way

    Always wishing in your direction

    Knowing in my soul the gods laugh at me each time I do

    No one has missed you like I do

    It’s a unique type of missing

    Like in my soul I feel I know you

    And in my head I don’t

    I miss something that may not ever exist

    You’re not lonely anymore

    Does that mean you don’t survive?

    I’d rather you did

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  • The clovers are out but they’re wilted from lack of rain

    I saw a bee trying to gather pollen in vain

    And if that wasn’t just the most upsetting thing I’ve seen today

    The plants which belong here being burned to death

    And the bees who feed us struggling to find food because of it

    The world’s all wrong

    Everything is wrong

    I just wish it would go back to normal

    I just wish I had the power

    Wish I could scream in their heads simultaneously

    You’re fucking killing her!

    Instead I just feel pity for the poor bee

    Poor bee

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  • Who would you like to talk to soon?

    Who else?

    It’s always the same person.

    Call me maybe

    Except you don’t have my number anymore and I’m wiser

    And you have hundreds of ways to get to me

    That’s how I know you’re not coming

    Tried so many ways to get it right

    But what’s right when right is someone else entirely?

    Missing an idea I had once in a cascade

    What a cascade it was

    Oh but to hear your voice and have it be for me

    I’d give almost entirely everything

    Almost entirely everything

    And soon is so subjective is soon soon soon or soon.

    Hahaha English

    Call me maybe

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  • I feel badly for bugs stuck on the bus

    Especially wasps and bees

    Ants

    Colony critters absconded from where they belong

    I tried to think up a way that would prevent bugs from being accidentally brought on board

    But it wasn’t accessible

    I often wonder if humans are capable of not doing harm

    But there’s really no way

    It makes me sad to think that

    I’m well aware that humans are capable of reducing their harm by exponential amounts

    But short of existing in bubbles and feeding off of lab grown nutrients

    There is no way to exist completely without harm to other living beings

    Point just orchestrated in front of me

    Humans are angry these days

    It would be nice if they would be angry about the right things

    I was raised in a world with a bomb always set to go off

    And now the world is bombs set to go off everywhere

    So hell basically

    And here I am concerned about bugs on buses

    Well I will walk through hell with a smile why not

    And doing as little harm as possible

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  • The delicacy of the dance

    Making every working moment bubbly and sweet

    Only to turn it off afterwards and crash

    The dance is

    Making sure the strength of the crash is only so much

    That I have no other choice but to crash

    It would be nice to have a choice

    The sun is so too close and so too hot

    It’s making setting into things difficult

    Always over heating

    I wonder if there’s somewhere better than this that I could go

    I wonder where home truly is

    I wonder when I’m spread too thin

    Still get that yearning to return

    How I wish I could choose to be in a place where I don’t crash every day of work

    I’m not doing well

    But that’s not new

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