An Overabundance of Complacency

“She needs someone to inspire her.”
I had a Muse but he faded from me
how ghosts or lovers often do.

Patronage acquires autonomy and ingenuity, and I despair
the loss of works that loyalty will purchase.

Prosaic and dull.

“She needs someone to desire her.”
Our hands entwined as we walk, your ramblings
disengage me. I drift in the breeze.

I wonder at the mechanics of your lips, the mechanics of your speech –
How each kiss and each sentence are identical to the ones before.

Rote, rote, rot.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

Create your website at
Get started
%d bloggers like this: