Thursday, 14 April 2016

I Isn’t Always Self Declaration



“Portrait of a Woman” by Pablo Picasso (1945)


Score a kilo of fatigue on the scales to prove how sick you are
Flu is only fun for kids
Who whinge and whine to garner more regard from adults deprived of such
Yes we are ready with stomachs clenched
In which does carry an oyster cold of anxiety
Save carefully your will in the dearest and bloodiest of days
Watch the entitled march on your grave
On the gloomy day on which the clouds will drizzle gold
Harvest your name in Times New Roman to prove how serious a life you led
That led you here
Like everyone else led, on location

Here is home for one and for all, of us
There’s a party underground where the band we loathed are still playing their shitty music
God bless the oblivion of innocence
Collect us now
From the masses...
I am genuinely depressed
How did I manage to make something useless even more redundant
Than it already is
In reference to my lack thereof of a career
Buy into the struggle 
How’s living like without irony

Conquer the vision of becoming victim
With the sight of a real war
Instead, indeed, in addition to the truth  
You’re buffering
With mustard cheeks and a forced smirk wriggling in the margins of facial territory
You’re blushing
Because of the beasts in the buffet
Hide in between the walls of chair and skin a slot to slip in a tragedy
On occasion
You bluff
I’d rather be ordinary than suffering