I spy with my little eye a

fierce contradiction of minimal direction

this infectious grin that I taste on my

split apple face red from the fire of

a thousand heinous blushes I’m flustered and

stumbling to say the right thing when the thing

I mean to say is so god damned wrong

I prolong this self-antagonising and flagellant scream

a cry for help or so it seems when I’m damned near

begging at the seams for this

intrinsic triangle of folly I swallowed your

quick shot to the plot of this imaginary and hairy

tale of illicit trysts and village idiots

where I am both the leading man and the man being led

but its better left unsaid instead of spouting off

a thousand dead ends

So I’ll live with regret I’ve done a fine job so far

insofar as I’ve lived and needed no other

just another reason to speak to a friend

when companions clip wings and spring into

taking steps



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