This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Informal

When the lie fails
When the law fails
Maybe my life
Isn't
Draped with garlands
But at least
I'm full of
pawn shop promises

An anger subsidy
Trained like mass effects
Robots
Robots
They need to speak colloquially.

I feel a creeping
Uncertainty
An anger subsidy
Training

They need to speak colloquially.
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