too much to digest: time’s up for mastication,

noob meet rubix cube; more mental masturbation,

mark it with an ‘x’ like some kind of destination,

saw god reflected in the mirror at the train station,



slipped discs, backs out: big risk,

stay in;  go fish;

could’ve split the last dish,


feeling bait like the fly on the hook,

reeling? still shook — belly empty tonight,

front to back muscles still all twisted and tight,

sealing up my creased brain — leaked ingrates;

cockroaches scurry when exposed under lights,

most favour curried knows it’s lacking in spice.












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