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.

Παράθυρα Λογοτεχνίας για Νέους

Intellectum 10