it is what it is

it's inauthentic

it knows my old tricks, my new tricks

desire, spent, let's satisfy mechanically, get it over with

synthesize satisfaction, call it an interval
a mundane tick, like alyssa said

it's surplus words, a reference
to a fellow writer said fellow will never read
she'll have a baby in calgary, i guess i don't
understand

i'd better make some use of wake time
or find a summer home in dreamland
someplace that will take me in, in neon
on a black screen, a private library
with bleary medlies of oldies movies
and musicals and monies

i'm burned out, what did i lose, can't remember
surplus words...