Man mixed-up –

I realised what the theme was, the one on my psychiatrist’s implant, said over and over again, over all the twenty sessions at forty quid ‘a pop!’
She told me she didn’t want to pretend any more, pretend she cared, I’ll find out if she ripped me off.
I found it all out, I’ll destroy it all out.
Trips on public transport to Council tips reveal anecdote, hidden hates and intentions, and thereon I see a blind man sitting near the driver, like he owns him, or something.
Can I have one of those guide dogs that blind people get for free, but other people do all the hard work with; lazy blind people, lazy feckless blind fare patrons.
I had memories killing my progress on this trip to the Council tip, people were taking the present back to the past while it was seeping softly out the head.
I’m at the council tip pouring out my waste, there’s disconsolation in me, it came from the man who looks like a lion, but confrontation averted, there was no hint of hunt, because I had my secret place to be before I even knew I was going there.
Once there was a science fiction film I saw through a library rental DVD, three astronauts went towards the Sun, but they never got a burning, and everyday there’s a feeling I have that I know how they felt.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in poetry & prose and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s