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BINGEWATCHING bOJACK hORSEMAN
The moon is crystal
& clear;
the planks of the ship narrow
I sit on the edge of my bed
unaware of ethereal absurdity
I try to make up
a new game to survive
another hour of the rain
and flows of exorcism
journey into the night
I hope I wake up all right
then I can roll on thru
another day
and invent a brand new game
To all those nights of
To all those nights of ethereal absurdities, yes, truly can be seen as a journey of survival. Thanks, George, for the umph to roll on thru another day. The invention part, that I kinda gotta work on. Curious how a rut is much easier than innovation, from this reader's point of view. Have an awesome week! /Rik.
here is poetry that doesn't always conform
galateus, arkayye, arqios,arquious, crypticbard, excalibard, wordweaver
I don't know what else to do
I don't know what else to do