can't stand to be seen
in a the shuttering of disabled...
I know where I stand.
Disabled in the search
for the meta-for of mail.
It is gone... the last connection,
and cigarettes to boot,
a lasting impression,
one who hates the snark,
the other who won't see
the writing on the wall...
remembering the music.
The light is perfect
in an uncanny shine
of keyboard memories...
the smell of charred meat
will meet the glowing
of the unsuspecting
guest...
I know i am dead...
the haunting will last
til whenever...
I know the haunting..
ReplyDeleteNice to know I'm not alone in my isolated imagination. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteWow. This is a haunting indeed. Well done.
ReplyDelete