Man, the screen is full of muck
pencil scribblings etched in the soft display
finger prints, ciggy ash and beer droplets obscure the printed words
time for a rapid cleaning.
I've lost the user's guide, however
can't get by without viewing the contents table.
It's obtuse yet revered and laced with memories
bygone and ridiculous
genuine and pure
a conglomerate of bullshit and piety.
Bricks stacked up against us,
not really, though
that's the rhetoric that keeps me sane.
I'm stacked up against it all, destroying everything in its path
because I'm nothing if I'm not a martyr.
Without that book, I'm really screwed.
You see I can't seem to find the cable
the one that fits just right.
I've tried but bottles full of forget do their job
and my lousy actions stick to your fly paper.
And now I'm downing liquid regret,
washing all that history away.
No comments:
Post a Comment