You write a dating profile so you never have to write your own obituary.
But you’re a man child; you drink out of mason jars
Why do you have so many fucking mason jars?
You don’t do anything involved or time consuming like preserves.
You don’t preserve anything.
But you’d leave them in a pickle.
You are charming
And that is something in this world of cocks and cunts
Not spoken figuratively….
A body is a calling card
A shocking blink
A puritan’s double take
Makes a one liner seem endearing
A syllable as tangible as a smile
But no one wants to play chat roulette
So she’ll settle on your relaxed attitude and posture
Maybe it will work like bird pecking at crocodile’s teeth.
But I have a feeling fate hates to see one settle
Maybe this plateau is your form
This decrescendo of chaos, your spin curved
All the while life is prone and ready to run away
And you will be forced to chase your own life
Clinging to its very fabric as it turns away
It’s running backwards and it couldn’t care less.