Good lord, this is a spineless wreck of a man.
Worrying but definitely comical
Filthy mouth, dirty tongue–
Shows an obvious lack of respect for hygiene
He is addled no doubt
by Freudian demons,
The mind must be a catalogue of perversity.
Dead by 25.
Look at his eyes they never sit still
To transcribe his delusions?
His privates are nothing to speak of,
The penis must always return
To its flaccid state
Stare at him until he
internalizes our judgement
Embarrassed by bodily functions.
Note it down.
Thoughts are equal to actions
Watch him, his internal monologue
has done a runner
Grub his brain and
Let him take his nourishment
Mark one of your cocktails
He’s looping anyway
Get a cigar ready and a segment of orange
Put Charlie Parker on
And put some vomit of Kerouac in his hands
His life will be ascribed a yearly value
My daughters are depending on him.
If he wakes
The eart is still round
He feels no one loves him
He read too much Tolstoy when he was 18
Perversion comes naturally for pacifists.
His thoughts are not special
He is normal and the world
Mirrors every one of his fears
The base facts
19 and a nervous breakdown
Doctor, he has the same facial expression as a worm,
Yes I agree, quite humorous
Quite repulsive, interesting but Repulsive
If the body symbolises impurity,
Exactly Doctor. Exactly.
Dead by 25.
Give him a crayon, primary coloured and suicide proof
Thumb his scars (a command)
His girlfriend–well women are always disappointed.
All men are weak.
Cum flows grey like freight trains
He is still ruled by sin
Such words birth psychotics
He’ll be too much of himself for the rest of the day.
Pornographic filth has overrun his nerves
There is no cure for being a man
His age is his main illness.
He is an investment,
I’d bet my house on it.
His death will be
And full of beige roses
It still charts gravity’s path around the sun
It is always the mother
Roosevelt was right.
His illness is common and speaks not of artistic depths
The key facts
The things he knows but can’t accept