race you to the docks

it’s moving it’s crawling it’s running it’s an obscene violation it’s just a police signal going whoo whoo whoo and there they are plugging their ears like they have nothing more to do than stand there trying to protect something they lose every day like they could hear a scream anyway they’d probably turn around and flee first chance they got that’s the kinda luck there is around here or is there such a thing as luck in a place with no juke machines and inflation is just outrageous but you always feel that pull towards something although it is easy to make it the linchpin of some secret existence where you hold onto everything so close to your vest that there’s no telling why you are even standing there trying to be responsible especially when it’s just become a speech you don’t even believe and every motion is motivated by trying to make the people you loved look bad in your light, what light, isn’t it just a stench? and falling night after night into bed with that stench has got to be a drag, no wonder those of you have instruments working to pick up the pieces, it’s become so dark blue there’s no such thing as evil or good not even a divide no more just crosses and arrows and hearts and they start to blend and the air felt so good today against my lips and my thought turned to waterlillies in a sense, but the greater purpose sometimes seems bended or just so on my mind i can’t even live or breathe without it turning at me and trying to get me to change, the changes are too fast, i hold on, i hold on, it’s the only constant now, the holding on to the change which whirls me around and instead of it being fun it gets so old so fast, and dizzy, did i mention dizzy? but i’m being pulled by the chain of events that i thought made up fate, that i thought was my own ideas but weren’t they all implanted at some time or another, and i fell in love with a complication instead of a life, isn’t that so rich, what a gas, or maybe it’s not normal, or is it normal, it’s question everyone asks themselves a lot, and mostly they can say anything and because there are so many damn people that say things of course what you are thinking is perfectly normal because the odds of your thought being said aloud before is so great with all these crowds of tv watching book reading observers festering around feeding on more and more information being saddled into us, personally i don’t know how anybody stands it! I mean really, people needing to learn a new status quota five times a day and a new upgrade on their system for how to deal with life or how about a new platitude for what your entire past meant- I’m sure the guy behind the desk specializes in that, right after he learns how to specialize in specializing, there are all kinds of tricks out there, believe that none of them work, oh and you are so right, you are always right honey, what am i saying, it’s getting a bit rocky on this road what if i crash, i can’t let that happen but why do i go so fast, why do i go so fast, is it a rush or can my heart not slow down, maybe something will tell me but all i know is that everything i see is so much more than i can hold or touch or say and you look at me like i’m ruining everything by not encompassing it with every phrase. you get upset by the details of the sculpting and what really happened was your jealousy ruined perfection, you were so angry that my details took me from you as you had been taken from another, but who cares that was history and that’s not gonna make the books so why bother dragging it up, mentioning anything at all, but then again it doesn’t seem okay to have all this blowback or to have nothing at all, how about a sensible sense of meaning, now that really is something i can actually say i dont see everyday…

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