I used to be a writer

Piano fingers, are lobster claws. A lazy cell evolves. in reverse. Paintbrushes collecting dust slump in tin cups brown strips of rust Camera lenses giving me the eye wondering why I won’t pick up the pen and paper. or at least try. what is a feeling. internal hallucination of a sensation None of it is…

I’m Sick

in the head in the body in the clothes. I’m sick. of the ice of the heat of the news. I’m sick. with anger with love with a cold. I’m sick. of wifi of talking of digging. I’m sick. D evastated N auseated A mputated from my cell phone hand and abusing it. Losing me…