I suppose you could not call this a poem nor a story
Simply rambles on a page to recount my history
A party thrown in a beautiful location where all happy memories reside
My friend doesn’t arrive. It’s a long journey sure, but you can’t take the time out to text me, call me, tell me I’m asshole and that you need sleep?
I’m Bloom in my mind
Lose structure and gain sleep, need to eat eggs and sheer sheep
Can’t you get a car dear old Don that isn’t like a tuna can?
A awful poet, prosewriter or priest to the old Fake reality
Structure - noun
Isn’t Structured it is
What I type is
A lost art into the
Realization of said
Implies breakage from
Banana banana banana hashtag central train stopping at station overdrive monkeyhammer.
You cannot break me