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To Nathan Versaw's next pieceI've lost something this is my brute concerto I’m delirious I’m the perfect choice so read me editor or fuck off it doesn’t matter I suppose the sun will still rise and fame doesn’t help nor money the ocean still floats and pain still lives breathes and fucks the essence out of me I wake up. the alarm clock alarms me. I might die today or get promoted. despots sleep easier. I shower. my small cock is afraid. he knows he may never get laid. he is disconcerted like I. I draw funny cartoons on the bathroom mirror. I go back to bed. what is this poem? this death? this living flesh? I sit among artificial ego drinking a coca cola eating a ritz cracker my cave, my room where nobody knows the pain like I do I choke away small victories smoke light cigarettes and dread age renew faith in misery I go to work. my world is becoming complex. I see the world through a nicotine windshield. I think of poems. of death. I need to find a woman to save me from all this. my cock is shivering with fright. this world never ends I’ve lost something I smoke too much drinking is my hobby a bird flutters by my window like bacon in a frying pan I’ve lost something.
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