photos from today
(Source: seasofgreen)
We shot down the last surviving students
What they learned could be used against them
The boxes are programmed to be more non-responsive
The swimming pool has had a change of chemical
I’m no fish but I could taste the sulphur.
With each drip the water gets unclearer
I need glue to keep myself from drowning
Soon i’ll stick right to the waters edge
Another metre descends down to the boiler
And the boiler man wears a hat to hide the horns.
Some of us like swimming counter clockwise
The others watch their watches in despair
There will be gathering at the deep end
The hedonistic nihilists may attend
They know the sewers lead to other swimming pools
These swimming pools with other amounts of protons
Sodium gets a thumbs up from the sharks
An octopus shakes his head in regret and mostly disapproval.
“The bipods will never learn”
There was a restroom rape
And an innocent murder
And soon we ran like the hellhounds
Through the motel rooms and cheap soap
And everywhere we fled to
Scissors slept in my pockets and an outcry whipped my back raw.
They always knew where we were
But they hunted in a wave not a dart.
And my mother spoke to me in the bathroom again.
She said “Disfigure yourself’
So I took my pocket scissors
And snipped at the dead protein
That laid lark and greasy on my scalp cemetery
Until i was free of the weight.
The lake was.
It existed.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t love.
It hugged. And has the touch.
It moved and danced to no music in particular.
And people have loved it.
Unrequited love.
It’s not really love then.
It’s more of an obsession.
A bit like stalking.
The lake was full of water.
And fish who need the water.
But do we love the things we need?
Or do the things we need love us?
So does the fish love the lake?
Or does the lake love the fish?
The vacuum cleaner is a magnificent beast
Beyond both brain and brawn
Bringing each insect that graces into a heavenly kingdom of fluff and ecstasy
Slowly it sucks like a sinkhole in sweden
Welcoming the little buggers up its long hard shaft of chrome
And up and up into a small compact space
Ready to be thrown away
