Thursday, January 11, 2024

 I sat 

    The biscuit 
Of the nomenclature 
Of no how not being not
    But the sun
   Shone so bright
   In the alleged winter
   And I'm a bum
  Trying to figure out 
Why or where or what 
But I guess I don't really care
 And should probably just shut up
  And DO SOMETHING
like make dinner