Friday, September 02, 2016

epiphany

like a horror plot in a funny flick
or a placebo that makes you raging sick
like a poor man’s purse with a gaping hole
or a rich man out with a begging bowl
like a geriatric trying to lie about his age
or an illiterate pretending to read a page
like a passionate kiss between enemies
or a buzzsaw singing through the trees
like a glass of salted oil to a parched man
or to a non-smoker a strict tobacco ban
like two left feet in a ballerina’s dance
or a double-headed coin in a toss of chance
like a question poised at the end of every how
how perfectly beautifully futile is our love?

ram cobain

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