Is this death.
I’m walking the muggy morning streets because the storm just passed through.
I don't suffer buyers remorse anymore and you know dignity doesn’t belong in this brave new world.
I’m forty and I’ve squandered all the seconds of my biological clock / because if we’re going to die alone anyway why take someone else’s student debt with you.
My heart beat is rapid and my breath is shallow / I had too much wine last night and all my neurons are coated in cherry tannins that remind me that you’re everything in the world and nothing to me.
I’m sipping coffee on the edge of the rat race because I just can’t face the rats anymore / but they still gnaw anyway at my shoelaces like rabid children that won’t be ignored.
My charity is an economy that keeps sick children alive just long enough to starve them to death / but the Christmas cards tell me what a good job we’ve done of it.
My economy is a charity that says go fuck yourself harder because we want your guilt but not your enlightenment.
When I was a kid my greatest discovery was that my belly button had no conclusion / as if I was connected by umbilical chains to all my former half-lived lives / but now my greatest find is the ointment that finally cleared the weeping scab on my muggy morning mind.
Copyright Sonny Clarke
I’m walking the muggy morning streets because the storm just passed through.
I don't suffer buyers remorse anymore and you know dignity doesn’t belong in this brave new world.
I’m forty and I’ve squandered all the seconds of my biological clock / because if we’re going to die alone anyway why take someone else’s student debt with you.
My heart beat is rapid and my breath is shallow / I had too much wine last night and all my neurons are coated in cherry tannins that remind me that you’re everything in the world and nothing to me.
I’m sipping coffee on the edge of the rat race because I just can’t face the rats anymore / but they still gnaw anyway at my shoelaces like rabid children that won’t be ignored.
My charity is an economy that keeps sick children alive just long enough to starve them to death / but the Christmas cards tell me what a good job we’ve done of it.
My economy is a charity that says go fuck yourself harder because we want your guilt but not your enlightenment.
When I was a kid my greatest discovery was that my belly button had no conclusion / as if I was connected by umbilical chains to all my former half-lived lives / but now my greatest find is the ointment that finally cleared the weeping scab on my muggy morning mind.
Copyright Sonny Clarke