fuck that so stressed
and sick of these apocolyptal tags?
"the end is near"
calypso your hips oh
your end is near
"it was night and i was waiting for her to come into the bedroom to have sex because you know we were very middle class and that's what you do at the end of the day."
"it was the afternoon and i was waiting for the e mail to arrive in my inbox because you know e mail was very middle class and that's what it did in the afternoon."
"you know i was waiting for my wet nurse in the morning because she was very middle class and never brought the milk on time."
my wet nurse brought curdled milk to the kitchen sink
and poured it down my throat
fragile plumbing corroded with acid and clotted with time
filling her pipes with smoke she suggested the middle class was an idea
was an illusion
was not real
was not her
was not what we all thought it was
and swept up the ashes of her cigarette
into the cinderbox of the collective fairy tales we tell
and thought about freud for a moment but left it on the coffee table
when she left her apartment filled with middle class furniture
time is always the thing, isn't it? insomnia is not your problem.
what they don't know is how crazy you've gone in the night
when no one was watching you not sleeping
"i wish that screw hadn't come loose"
she bemoaned at breakfast.
its whirring too quickly now.
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