loadofcarp

Sometimes I wonder about this place.
Whether those noises are significant or if my reality radio needs a tuning.
Maybe then I can stop turning the dial endlessly,
Looking for something that might not be found.

I think the fan is going to fall right off the goddamn ceiling.

I’ve always looked at the stars, y’know. They’re scarce, but…
I wanted one.
I couldn’t ever have one. I reach for them and they blur or disappear.
I’m working on that.

Oh good, it stopped.

We run around in circles, much like that fan.
Unfortunately we blow hot air, unlike the fan.
Perhaps we should cool off sometime.

Look at me sometime. And tell me what you see.
I want to hear it.
All of it.
Raise your hands, kids, but I don’t have the authority to call on them.
So speak out of turn.