mantras of pointed pointlessness (coping)

a chemical taste
acrid and aloof
of ozone and cyanide
dripping down
insipid incisors
mauling molars
is this anxiety
plucking at
the painstrings
carefully wound
around my tender
inescapable mind
a lyre played by
a liar lying down
on the job
letting down
everyone that ever
loved a sentient
sack of agonies

better people
have it worse
than a fool
with more than
he deserves
suffering self made
i was the fastest
most inconvenient sperm
which is ironic
considering my will
to keep on
keeping on
rushing forward
to find an egg
that hatched a
great disappointment
wracked with this
insistent pain
as payment for
sins as yet

pig headed
keeps me mobile
my loves ignite
the will to go on
sifting through
acrid acrimonies
skanking to the
ska beats helping me
beat down this wave
of apathy that
springs forth
during these
times of
intermittent woe


2 thoughts on “mantras of pointed pointlessness (coping)

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