I am the sum of my discontent I am the naive radiance of youth a stockpile of redundant iron lungs a squirrel looking startled to the sky A bundled baby roaring A train screeching to a halt A collection of sperm tears and mucous Odd tales, well worn cul-de sacs of conversation and a disquiet my thoughts tend to zoom off at great velocity making their way towards a dream of a destination In the absence of any tangible World weary yet curiously beguiling Ižm an all
incompassist from way back
a man of stodgy ambitions © MARTIN EWEN 1998 |