I am all out of ideas at the moment.

There was a clarity and there
is clarity, but today, it's out of my reach. Today it's just a
bag filled with the past,
and I keep shaking the
bag and pissing the past off.

Feeling hollow, rotted out, but
the dead flesh is being consumed,
too slowly, so very slowly.

There will be fresh meat,
but the maggots must consume.

(go maggots!)

(You are a treat to be sure.)

keep looking, stop writing


Geometry is fabulous

Individual gears are rough,
the whole machine is gorgeous.

Absolutely!! (speak?)