Catabolic pathways are clothes
Overflowing from
The basket of my mind
Do you have the time
To waste mine
For a moment?
I speak to ghosts that never were
I need a waterproof pillow
Wait no, that would be –
Waterproof, mucin-proof, urea-proof…
Oh, never mind
Seems the artist wept out
With the tears in the night

I find finish lines in far-off lands
I make infinite lists
Hope to wear myself out
Or earn a ticket
Off the carousel

Needs of the flesh stuffed in a shoebox
I’m surprised I haven’t begun to ferment
Watch my cells get facultative
If I went and tried
I went and died on the inside
Joke’s on me
It’s not even half-time

Single-handedly
Reformulating the frustration-aggression hypothesis
Let me show you how to keep loss in your corner

Some people, they let life get in the way of their dreams
Not I, said the pig
The former is finite
I will let my dreams devour my life.