a grave

up late embers glow
walking upright
different angles such a good night
for the extinguishment of being,late-night tvs warble
the journalist sits all a jumble looking at his paper blank and aimless nonsense!!! he yells and screams his anger into his fist. he feels the veins pop in his neck. how long has this man had the pain for. the illuminated side of the table brings a hidden delight. he thinks (a gerbil in his own mind) the coat hanger good for slitting exit wounds but not for cleaning things
the cleaner enters his room/depressing
cleaning up messes


he grabs for coherence a flame in the darkness
he lays nerves aching looking at his portraits
line the wall
engulf the room
he forfeits
he hears the women groan who subject to his own torment walk the halls
hanging there a torrent-1918-influenza flu
flies are scatterbrained philosophy cross sodomy double a student
\he
feels a leap
a bound inside himself but separate
i knew this love
she screams and tears her face in anger. fragmenting her own spirit

he leads a hole from his room to the wicked he spins and is born with evil
an illuminating spark
a day goes out a night comes in
he cant help fear it
this girl he knows whose name starts with c
a past school
of torment and eternal dark
hes walking for the dream
hes waking he inteprets signs
he catches viruses
his bedstain is apparent
his bloodspawn is ergodic maniffesting itself
away on a whim a light a song
his mind with her
a world together
unworn
a worm