posting silly things.

Folder: 
Bad poetry

I might still be on
a tiny pharmaceutical
journey to nowhere.

I remember five
words that made my muscles twitch
fire gun art love what

ever we think we
have, we've got the brain hands heart
all well connected.

put a man into
disassembly position
if you want poetry.

I just cannot draw
a single thing the way I
saw, iridescent

in the hall between
that painting and the window
eyes turned out as guns.

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