another day, another post
by Jason Alan
it’s lovely, it’s lonely. comic and cosmic.
i could talk about rain, or the cigarettes I’m rolling
not at the moment, though
hard to roll and write
but what does one write about when it feels as though the mind is a blank slate?
a clogged drain. nasty hair, food and who knows what other particles stuck to it.
particles. subatomic particles. particle board.
what does one write when the white pages are infinite?
when the word count is endless?
maybe the rooftops need more screamers
fighting injustice and inequality
with fists, focus and femurs
possibly the sleeping in their silky, lily white beds need more dreamers