Paul Stanway
Extremely eloquent ways of saying virtually nothing beyond the obvious, that we are, sooner or later, doomed.
FUTURE'S STATIC DOCUMENT
Sonnet
Unroofed, my heart's arrhythmic and target
Encircled. The clouds are rotten, plaster things
Crumbling a grey mist, fingered. Up I drift
Past all the copters - the sects surveilling
My sense for rent. Parallax, a reversed
Me unfolds: Prison Street sounds. I'm wailing
Free, as the fist clacks down . . .
September 15, 2017
Autoloss
I Will Never Be Happy
The Current Social Malaise: An Exploratory Poetic Interlude
Neolibtard Globalist Sheeple's DSM Mental Health Spreadsheet
That the magic wears off over time seems obvious
Now I'm over the age of thirty-five.
I fail to feel anything from taking this drug.
My life stopped twenty years ago. Back then, I was capable of love
And saying "Yes. OK." to things like going out.
Life was not a nightmare
And sleep was no dreamless . . .
August 31, 2017
