I'm not a sad kid.

I've never felt
like the bird on the stick,
that's stuck,
with a stranger's thumb
wedged between it's pleural membrane and it's positive intentions.
I've never paid much attention to the caste system, either.
But lately,
i've been said bird,
and recently,
we've been that very same caste system.

While they delete their browser history,
I'm in the process of deleting my yellow bone marrow,
to hopefully numb the numbness

Hypertension

There's a steady stream of transparent indigo
that peristalsis is forcing back up my esophagus
that turns green upon impact
with coincidence and your discarded carbon dioxide.
It's only here for a moment, though
because as soon as it arrives,
it begins the taxing process of diffusion back into our sorrowful membranes.

I've spoken of blackberries before,
as if they were gospel doctrine.
And preached to the multitudes,
their undying importance.
But what I thought were blackberries,
were tree roots
and the plant that bore them,
an organism much like that of a deer.
And deer are colorblind, you know

A perfect house without all the shortcomings that come with a title

photo credit: The infinitesimal Bayley Christensen

And it seems as if though I'm living in the
confusion, that's so very obviously dripping
from the four of you, that
correlates less to me than does anything
else, in this
middle-sized community.
But I'll build a home, that has just enough rooms,
for us to live in,
as it does memories,
for us to thrive upon -
here.

everyones a thing to me

Why do we not entertain the idea of reading neutral news
There's not a popular novel around in which opinions are meshed, and the middle ground is prominent.
We are the constant, we are stability.
We are what is compared to, now.
The norm is not prioritized, because the appeal isn't there.
Where's an article written about a man and his average day?
We read about people winning prizes, and people being stabbed in the head,
but never do we read about a man getting ready for the day, newly out of his middle- class bed.
The most interesting thing about our sick fascination is that we aren't even out living these extremist
ideals
We're sitting at a wooden table over roast beef analyzing broad stupidity in a very justified tone.
Where the hell does our entitlement spawn?
We're the judge of a court that truly doesn't give a damn.

Sometimes we venture into the not-inside, but it's only for nine days in a hotel that serves you breakfast.
And it's only then, that we understand how much we depend on our nine to five's.
It's only then that we realize we want to be predictable.
It is only then that leaving vacation seems like more of a vacation than vacation.

hire a choir

Guys, what used to be normal to us was not too long ago. Think about that, then,
implode.
But the thing is, today, months ago seem like things that are not real.
do you understand?
oh

i look down upon my diary-less livelihood with a feeling of cordial disdain

If I don't know something, then I don't know anything at all

And I feel like sometimes, it's like, "oh" 

And also, it's like, "oh," also. 

Then clams, and pictures

pictures of clams

and pictures, of clams 

and an understanding. hi. 

that's like, oh, we can't, 

because it's like, 

                             

bitches ain't shit.