Thursday, 2 June 2005

one of these things

grim, grey gristlebone that tastes of mood swings.
i spit the fat into a bowl and pretend not to exist.
bored, bordello music drifts in through
my moby, modern window,
sterile sounds that capture nothing
and leave nothing.
shaun ryder.
joe strummer.
the living and the dead.
death offers no respect for talent.
one i can't escape and the other i can only chase.

words by cocaine jesus

5 comments:

littlepage said...

sterile sounds that capture nothing, leave nothing. nice.

but for the talent bit, perhaps there is something else for you to chase, because talent you already have.

transience said...

i would wail a piss out of some asshat if it made you feel better. you brim with talent many people (including me) envy.

NicoleBraganza said...

It's one of these things....and it shall pass..

gulnaz said...

u and chase talent????
don't be modest now ;)
you are loaded with it!

_Soulless_ said...

You being silly, yes. And damn well talented to express it this way. Gah. Man, might as well chase cars, a pair of legs, or a tail. Ruff ruff. For talent you possess like scent-tendrils that curl, lingering with every sharp inhale -- verging on a sigh of found wonder -- of your readers.

Write, man! Write! And leave us to our mind-whimpers. ^_^