can not be held responsible

and of all the events predicted,
it is unclear if the effects of
dogma were ever taken into account, but

due to the plague,
the plague that has descended
this lack of sleep,

my cognitive functions are as reliable as water damaged stock,
so please,
don’t take me to seriously,
I can not be held responsible for my actions.



  1. multiplemichael

    you are responsible for your actions
    keyboard putrefaction is no excuse
    turn your cognitive powers towards your daily workload
    you must: distill, melt, coagulate, sublimate, filter, and sometimes precipitate
    do not think about executioners or hangmen
    scribblers masturbate in rubbish
    you touched porter wagoner
    he touched dolly parton
    you stole corrugated metal from the roof
    or should I say that you borrowed it ?
    five-fingered corrugated metal
    your upward look….father, forgive him the corrugated metal
    he who crieth in the workplace
    friend or foe
    mister mercenary keyboardist
    comedy club emails/emails with a mocking laugh
    emails with the stench of decay
    the unwanted baby is starting to smell
    the infant plucked
    eaten away inside by hornets
    tiny tiny skeleton so easily broken
    lie still anonymous pilgrim
    dark gift of the heavy thighs
    brief happiness extravagance
    root root then the grave
    was there a heartbeat ?
    what color the placenta?
    you told that poor girl you were ALDOUS HUXLEY
    triple chins
    split seams
    graffiti about your female co-worker
    not the best
    wheezing with finger play
    her momma said less open less friendly
    the preacher man voiced less common
    a different creature
    gossiping short of a diet
    no one was listening
    her apple was plucked


    • eatmorewords

      dazed & lost in office corridors that appear
      endless – stretch on for miles through unchartered
      architectural plans – meeting rooms with projectors wide screen tele-
      conferences with people in countries
      other latitudes
      timezones dialling codes
      who’s currency is colourful
      and worthless like the unwanted child
      like the spam emails
      like the weights father made him carry about
      barefoot across tundras
      through bad dreams – and in the corridors I found him
      hunched – crumpled
      writing his memoirs on stolen stationary – feverish & waiting
      waiting with memories of pilgrims – tight rope walkers – the findings of
      an audit – DNA tests from bone fragments –
      the first line read – I HAVE BEEN ACCUSED OF A WASTED LIFE


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