Don’t worry.

Don’t worry.

Everything you think,
that “people” think,
that people think,
That People, think.

That?

Think.

Ah yes.

People.


I was made to realise many years ago that my own form of madness and instability of speech and lack of consistency oratorically in terms of form or codex and the way in which I believe and conceive it to be perceived is a thing to be appreciated, like a gOD given gift.

“Received.”




But not for me.




I hate it.




I feel lost,
so often,
when I speak to people
about the most mundane of things.

I feel cold
and alone,
and eternally absent.
Or maybe just missing the point of…


RING RING.

RING RING.

RING RING.