Being found out by David Hilbert,
Trying to slink quietly through the garden
And eating dead mice that were already dead.

Traps not set by a smoking hot blonde
Mice that were not really you,
The smoke of a black clove cigarette,
Wine,
And sweet v--ina.

Daring to glance at the ledger
To get a better grasp on the sunk cost
And admitting defeat in the things we enjoyed
That now reverberate in the mind like a dull moronic thud.

We are ever increasingly living for yesterday.

Remembrance must be a trick to sweeten the deal when it's time to forget it all.

We wear radical acceptance like a tattered old trash bag.

I know why I had to be characterized as such an idiot,
But I can't stop looking at it classically.

Infrastructure whips around me like a living fractal
These compounded eyes see the world a little differently
The city street is tomorrow yesterday and today
The forest is an intersection i have with myself

I will never know all the plants and animals
And I will speak every tongue known to man.

My mouth eyes and ears have fused to the cloaca of eternity

My cortex has been smudged by the side of a drunk artist's hand

I am surrounded and i am mortified

Self loathing never tried to free itself

The grass was green on every side
Until it realized the irony of the adage, had a laugh to itself, and burst into flames.