Fragments 4

The skeleton of society is the architecture of osteoporosis.

I am a hollow ship cast adrift on an ocean of literature and history. I do not have the necessary weight to sink. Instead I starve and burn under a cold and unforgiving sun.

My depths are abstract. The deep waters of fringe sanity. They defy logic and formal study.

I have no narrative unless poetry be a narrative. I have a voice that only speaks the language of song.

Without anything to express. Writing is the torture of unfulfilled potential.

Morality spoils childhoods.

Fear makes a grotesque mockery of normal life.

If I could concentrate I would have the keys to my home.

Man is slaughtered by nature but I do not slaughter nature.

Beauty is all. Without law or morality. It's what we choose that incriminates or keeps us safe. To be an artist is to live with guilt.

I reflect horror and smile at strangers.

Freedom is going within and discovering infinity. Disapontment is bottomless and thirsts are destoyed by their impossible demands.

Impotence always meets with expectation.

Misery writes pleasure. I am an open window for shoppers to envy. 

I habilitate neurosis rather than rehabilitate it.

I ate the univerese and vomited rats.

Poetry demands reality for its fantasy to work. My work liberates and I suffer for my divine comedy.


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Stu Buck

Mon 18th Mar 2019 16:54

excellent. although they are fragments i feel they hold together well as a whole.

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