Fast to say finish
Please let me go away, to another place.
Where the fire melts the fear away, And the warm water is flowing blue and green, Where the fat falls of the bone, And makes a dream sing.
They say, fast under the breath— That this world you live in, and the way you live it Brings you closer to your death.
That the stomach expands and contrasts And the lungs pink now black, are coughing and growing sick from The strength I lack, and the weakness I have.
I exist only in a minute, and soon I am fast to say Im finished, Throw the pen away, burn the book Im writing. And say this is the last poem I’m sick of trying
But I guess Im fast to say I’m finished, and I know I have to keep on
Strumming my guitar
Staring at the stars,
Writing with my pen
Drunk in bars or to keep from sleeping on the train,
To keep staring at each person who looks at me
And notices the words oddball magazine scribbled on the front cover
I guess im quick to say im finished and Ill never do this again, But as long as I have a commute, You’ll see me writing on the train And scribing my name on every single ugly page.
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