You to me, dear, stir
something i thought i've neglected--
in dire need of replacing
(i have hired a surgeon for this purpose)
his hands were unsteady,
his scalpel fingers cold.
i heard the voice of george harrison from beyond,
singing about the sun. but the anesthesia wore off
quicker than ticking i was displaced,
into something worse than that note between
the third and fourth fret.
the ringing sounds of effects multiplied like children
from amplifiers.(the droning bass reminding me of you.)
i am a patient, up for your observation.
(do you like what you see?)
we shall fix it to cater to your needs.
they say, i have fine teeth.
(do you want me to bite, do you?)
we shall file it down into violent streaks.
there is no solution, too small for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment