what you want why can t i give it

up yours like you want it to give up

good luck chuck with your feeble attempts to becom e

something that doesn t flounder in the

end of it all when you fail to re call what

once was a beautiful eulogy of an epiphany

you had forgot ten in the wilder ness of blissful

nakedness with a stark reality coming up

yours like you want it what you want

They say that no one likes long poems anyway

Or is it anyways, like there are many ways to go any way?

And each line should be a recollection

Recognition reconnection of the last line’s inflection

There’s still time to be forgotten because

I forget myself every single moment of the day

Like a kind of untouched piece of cake a dieter

Is trying to avoid like the Plague, lest they die

A poem that rambles on and on and on and on

Is just a bunch of lines that run away with

Each other until there’s no hope for tomorrow

So why read this even at all, when all forestall

The beginning of what’s sometimes known as a call

The Wild Wilderness will never keep me down

Pick me up because I can’t give you waht you want

I simply cannot give you waht you want

What do you want I wonder as I wander?

Is it something simple and clean

Like a line of cocaine or meth or powder?

Or is it convoluted like the matter with matter

That no one pays any mind when it’s all said and done

what do you want that I can t give up yours like a verbal

consent of consent of consent of consent

go forth and went and went and rent

none of it matters i now see said the blind man with a wicked eyeball festering with wounds of what was once a clear white orb of vision.