They invented LOVE all right, and they still can’t make the right plastic or metal or whatever to hold it all in, so I just keep leaking (insert water sounds), all over everything (insert everything), Dripping and splashing/making music, gives me an ear infection, now my equilibrium fucked, so I’m holding onto the railing the whole way down, and I’m asking for your shoulder on the way up, if you help me when I’m frightened I’ll help you when you’re drunk, promise you know nothing and you’re someone I can trust, neverminding hot DEATH on our heels, but never forgetting it either.
July 14, 2010
Digital Ash in a Digital Urn
