Head storm

my head is full of shit
when I breath out
a trail of faeces fragments pave the road for word fragments to ooze out
tumble collide and combine
forming a continuous stream of words

the words snap in arbitrary places
form lines couplets and prosaic patterns

hold your breath for the smell may be special

shiny spring hearts
and autumns leaves
won’t stir my heart
but derelict wreckage and off peak beauty

a thousand phoney Instagram shots
are not worth a single truely felt bleeding love
crooked sweating and odourous

w.j.u.h.

 

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