Grab a chicken sandwich, when you are hungry.

I look at you
And I feel
Earth is round and round
And sea is deep and deep
Yet the sky is pretty dark
                                          “Somebody switch on a tube-light”
And I need to write
About this nervous disorder
As a set of prayers
Offered to Jesus on Christmas

Sometimes I wish I had a god for writing
Bow and beg
For words; slithery eel
Dig my grave, cover it with sand and sleep comfortable
                               “I never forget to take my pink blanket”
And words shall seep and sprout
And maybe even end up as my breakfast
I would not have to worry so much
If all I did was eat
Chew and spit
Stain plain paper
And not shed blood.

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