Saturday, August 15, 2009

work is a brothel.

i am a whore.
for the hotel.


iced coffee can fuck you up sometimes.
if you are not careful, it's as powerful as any other medium.

i want heavy pulses
empty beds
to hit the walls
and slide across the floor.

bodies writhing (?)
returned texts
accepted phone calls
finished projects.

the trip to another country can be supplied
if you plan it well.

5 more months behind this desk
is do-able.

but it's so hard to feel content here when so much else is going on
and you have to read about it
while you twiddle your thumbs
and stare blankly
at your blue blazer
in the diamond shaped mirror.

No comments:

Post a Comment