Get up, eat. Drink some speed. Get on the rat race’s beat. Out the door, you proceed, just another person in the street. Not an inch of power to concede. Show up, sign the sheet, like the faceless hog decreed, and with pay, you can’t compete. Day in and out, at a painful speed, destroyContinue reading “A Villanelle For Capital”
Two words, purple ketchup.
How else will you get into the coffee shop? You’ll have to step over me. A lump or a mound of garbage, To you that is what I appear to be.