homey future under hush

17 Jul


homey future under hush


the future is a paranoid

aging neophyte

wondering aloud how it could be

walking through your neighborhood

foreign to him

in a manner

somewhere between

a stumble and a strut

he looks perpetually frazzled

wide-eyed, looking for nothing in particular

hairs hoary

the whores dead

the past wiped away like cum off a gravestoned belly

soft tissue

the granite scratches

the future goes on

despite the fact that it doesn’t exist

the last hope on childless jaws extending their crowning breath

knowing that, really, the rub never was

                                    all alone, left alone, stayed alone

it was that some fateful motherfucker kept sprinkling sawdust underneath your nose

and saying happy birthday every time you sneezed


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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