Cellophane wordplay jogs through my head
Endlessly filling me
With the ceaseless gray ranks of pigeon-swarm retrospect
Flocking to me like a migratory sign
In spring, they'll all come home, perhaps. Granted they didn't get picked off on the way.
But they are gone as of now. I'm pretty fucking abandoned. This whole general lack of being able to Produce anything sensible that isn't sensory redundant is getting to me...
It's eerie.
It's all just mushy coagulated homogeneous word-poo
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"mushy coagulated homogeneous word-poo"
ReplyDeletethat's very mushy, coagulated, and homogeneous.