it has come to my attention
unfortunately
that drugs and insomnia
is the best base for poetry
and that happiness
is an enemy to it
i categorically condemn
every single person
that has ever parttaken
in advertisement,
this soul-rotting enterprise of Mammon :
sincerely, i hate you
my biggest unrealizable dream
is to, but for a moment,
have a morning cigarette
with a newly woke Dolly
an early morning in the Smokeys
in the late 1960's
i want to crush my apartment
and dismantle it with my bare hands :
i need to scream
because i need to rest
but i can not
Uppsala's premier sewer-rat - the town's least prolific amateur wordsmith. poetry-attempts seeped in the historical, the mythical and the ever-so-human. A fiery follower of the 'Poete maudit' tradition. Apocalypticist and eschatological. Anti-modern. Decadent, spiritual, extreme, beautiful, dystopian, romantic. Personal, confessional, devotional. Everything posted = work in progress. This blog writes under the banner of, and in ever allegiance to, The End Commune (2012-2022; revived in 2025)
Tuesday, May 28, 2024
"FOUR SHADES OF NIGHT"
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