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,
baggage;
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.
konrad_murinski 