Rant

Don't you think, don't you think that I am completely over it. Do hope this is my last and only rant. Don't you know I can tell there is something you ain't saying? The images speak louder that anything else you may decide to show me. I see not your hand, I do see your smile, I can smell the essence you leave behind when you would not tell. It is not like I'd love to take your place, is it? But, why in heavens is it that you got another go before I do? I dug and buried, I heard thorough, I unhung stars, I fought memory, I dared for both. Fuck it! It indeed is always 'I, I, I.' I deserve it I reckon. You ought to reckon. Be mine not, yet reckon. Sweet tunes make it easier. These venting words make it easier. I am still walking far and away and wouldn't turn 'round since I want to not become a pile of salt.
You shivered me not. It is just that I am envious of that I saw, only if what I saw is what I think I saw on a sunny day at home.

God don't exist

The bleu skies & the polluted creek, Drāno, sleeping pills, the misery of an old man in a pornography theatre, schizophrenia & the sound of it, 11 hurt people, catharsis, the unbearability of modern art, the endless formula of a polymer, nobody is irrelevant, tears, the Creator of the Universe, no one else possesses the free will you've been given, machines, a fictional dog which cannot wag its tail, a real dog which cannot wag its tail, deus ex machina, my eyes are a pair of leaks, fairy land & a blue scarf in the breeze, and so on.
I've defected: I am an unwavering band of light.

-to KV

Texas

Sun at its most & the smell of it all green, actual green, grass while you lay yourself onto scowls & shrugs & coarse language, necessary & unnecessary, & around twenty clouds to the front & around fifteen to the right & none to the left & men of orange & of blue & my brother & an oblivion about how life is & how it actually is & how it seems to be & nothing but the self & the physique & the strength of a mind that is strong & the one that appears to be but is not & the one that is definitely not but sums up some strength from the depths of pride & turns tough & the sentiment of I sit atop the world for the field I run upon senses the caress of my feet, sweaty & all, going toward the glory I wouldn't otherwise reach.
Sun at its most & the smell of it all green, actual green, grass while you lie down thinking of nothing but glory.