ONCE CAN I SAY THIS
Fine computer logic hanged be damned
and hanged again : staccato wildfire purging
the oceans of everything left. The shed door,
ajar and swinging, brings forth an empty
hollow bearing darkness bleak and bare.
That sleeping figurine upon the lonely floor -
only a single dead mouse, curled and withered,
so sad to be seen dying now dead just like
sleep. I bent to cry and feel. I bent to feel
something : emotion within logic within both
time and place. It matters not that we live on.
Fine computer logic hanged be damned
and hanged again : staccato wildfire purging
the oceans of everything left. The shed door,
ajar and swinging, brings forth an empty
hollow bearing darkness bleak and bare.
That sleeping figurine upon the lonely floor -
only a single dead mouse, curled and withered,
so sad to be seen dying now dead just like
sleep. I bent to cry and feel. I bent to feel
something : emotion within logic within both
time and place. It matters not that we live on.
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