Surrounded by articles.
I identify with the cliché words, the only ones needed in my afternoon coffee.
Turkey, homophobia, unemployemt and Remos.
Thinking that this happens for a single reason, not to get bored that is.
And then I’ll clean my house. That always gives me a sense of start.
I’ve once more greeted the electricity bill with a masochistic grind of teeth.
Alongside the familiar contest of its permanence on top of my fridge.
It’s when-returning to everyday things that kills you.
It’s been a long time-that how Dylan used to sing.
So weak the cat after so many births-during the last one she stamped on with her feet drowning her kittens.