Comfortable Crimes
Another year of piddling like Pound
Of parsing plainly language of the day
Some basic common facts as laid in lines
From world to self to out and turn to see
the blending, where they leak.
The world intrudes the way the world is made. Insert in constant struggle with the self and everything in constant strife with time.
How wonderful it is, how beautiful, then puke
A-looking at the year to lose your lunch
To some of us these aren’t happy times
Again another cold and labored year
When work from broken bodies brings rebuke
The first in shifting times to feel the crunch will suffer worse from comfortable crimes.
Unknown to those, what happens here.bg
Today I am flying away
Leaving behind my concerns
A trail of my phantoms and fears
Leads to neurotic a place
As Icon or monument turned
So here upon my face we have my years.
Here’s a baby Hippopotamus
POETRY, PROSE AND ANYTHING GOES 