The Mezunian

I’m not having fun when time flies, so clip the wings to the stub & dump my clock in the Rhine. Right all. I’m sorry this poem sucked, by the way.

Lies in wait—bacon cheese sandwich,growing cold. Its owner,hungry, only sleeps.

Yes, I have the sadness, ‘side my flavorless tea & headache cheese crackers; but it’s not the sadness I had before, & that’s what most matters. That was left on the gray beaches o’ summer chills, wandering & pretending I was knowing & did science, when nobody invited me to be taught to grow gills. […]