o! damaged thought process
chaining me to slaughtered cities
impoverished by indifference
pummeled by pestilence
annoyed by aneurisms
this hilarity is too much for me to bare
this hilarity
this fucking joke of an existence
i’m just waiting for my face to be slammed into the mirror
blood and flaws
cowering in slushy STL streets
constantly surrounded by what was and what won’t
hoping no one will look
hoping no one will make eye contact
out of fear that i might have to acknowledge
the icy deafness that surrounds me
and speak.


2 Responses to “”

  1. tony saputo Says:

    i feel like you write the most when you’re walking to and from work…

  2. YO! Matt Questionmark
    videos of The May Day Orchestra posted on Youtube.


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