listen to me

the voice says: Listen to Me.

like the backseat boy of self important eureka.

like the Narcissus night debasing in the only light of its puddles.


Listen to My Feeling, it pleads from too much sugar and solitude.

can't you hear the star screams in my blood? the hollering stormdrum being struck?

if I feel it, it must be everywhere. a principle, my gift, the sine qua non brick of all that is.


it's a growing up to know the thunder goes unheard. the climbing chords fall deaf on the walls, and the colors stay pointlessly yours.

the voice is a kid, born spoiled from dreams.

and each dream is this damnation.