SILTING

Silt drips from above
I couldn’t fucking work there
Mud drops on your shoes

A fine lace garment
quite unironically
soldered to a chain

Fuck your maggot shit
Fuck these half sunken bike frames
Fuck this dirty air

I want a fresh breath
And a fresh breath-ed wo-man
With all the trimmings

A bit of cooked meat
In a small plastic sealed box
Salad for effect

You must understand
In an underground mine shaft
Everythings boring

4 thoughts on “SILTING

  1. “Against boredom, the gods themselves contend in vain.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

    Personally, I decided many years ago to abjure boredom. To be bored means one must be tired of what is going on in their own head…. I refuse to do that; it’s my head, & my choice whether to be bored….

    Works for me…

    Good poem….

    gigoid, the dubious

    😎

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