if we're talking about love
|
then I have to tell you
|
dear readers I'm not sure where I'm headed.
|
I've gotten lost before.
|
I've woke up stone drunk
|
face down in the floor.
|
|
late afternoon the house is hot.
|
I started I jumped up.
|
everyone hates a bore.
|
everyone hates a drunk.
|
|
this may be a lit invention
|
professors muddled in their intent
|
to try to rope in followers
|
to float their malcontent.
|
as for this reader,
|
I'm already spent.
|
|
late afternoon, the house is hot.
|
I started, I jumped up.
|
everyone hates a sad professor.
|
I hate where I wound up.
|
|
dear readers, my apologies.
|
I'm drifting in and out of sleep.
|
long silence presents the tragedies
|
of love. note the age. get afraid.
|
the surface hazy with attendant thoughts.
|
a lazy eye metaphor on the rocks.
|
|
late afternoon, the house is hot.
|
I started, I jumped up.
|
everyone hates a bore.
|
everyone hates a drunk.
|
everyone hates a sad professor.
|
I hate where I wound up.
|
I hate where I wound up
|
|
-----------------
|
Sad Professor
|
| R.E.M. |
