The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

Bucket

Shit.
I almost forgot to dump the bucket 'gain.
The bucket must be dumped whenever it gets full,
  or it'll spill & feed mold,
    killing us all with its toxic fumes.
But 1 day I will forget.
I try not to, but my mind,
      it slips.
I can't waste time--
  there's only so much;
but like the heathen that is I,
  I let it leave my clutch.
I count the hours squandered.
I count the hours squandered counting the hours.
Shit.
I almost forgot to dump the bucket 'gain.
  Must hurry.
Don't I know my worries will wane
  if I only stop wasting my time in worry?
& here I worry mo' time worrying 'bout my worrying.
I have no one to blame but myself.

I know I should probably ask for help.
No!
I most certainly should not ask for help.
I shouldn't stuff my face with your pie while giving nigh.
No!
I most certainly should stuff my face with your pie.
How uncouth would be such a denial?
We all want to take our vital vials;
  but sometimes prescriptions cause contradictions,
    & the lord that is logic itself stipulates
      that some must be deprived.

So I'll dump that bucket 'gain & 'gain,
  Relishing its empty moments.
Though I see the wall straight 'head,
  I know my smash will be sudden.

Fuck it.
Posted in Crazy, Poetry