I am smoking a joint stupid out my window.
This is actually happening. This is not a poem.
This is a realist happening.
It occurs by tapping the key
just hard enough with all ten digit fingers to impress the letter
onto the screen upon the word programme and then posting it
on a forum…
I am dizzy now with the edge taken off of things
High as ever as limp giddy for the life thing and all
its trimming…
and now!
just as real
a small wood louse
crawls passed me
on the window sill
-it is humid
-lice love the humidity
it brings them out
shit!
i’ve lost him
out of sight
just as i was typing
he managed to disappear
down some crevice on
the window sill
or on my shirt.
…well this isn’t much is it?
it’s realistic
just waiting and indulging
listening to the voices on the
t.v. right now
a psychologist is discussing the weak egos
of people who live highly ridiculous lives
narcissism has its good side!
mirror mirror on the wall,
who is the most narcissistic of them all?
The wood louse is back.
I’m flinging him out the window.
…Gone.
time for me to go the way of the shallow
to bed, to sleep, to dream of nothing
and follow dream in morning
through the tower of the ordinary
Time to sleep and time for men and women
else where to wake up once more and eternally
to live through the ten thousand shushes
of mortal being