Ein oof d’une glory in the morning. Keep talking peeple. We’ll get em going.
Taking the trash out
Showing up for church
Doing the right thing
My head is throbbing
A headache, but what’s worse is
The pain of pressure,
The pain of failure.
Waking up from a dream where I’m at least
A little more successful that now
Where they’re begging me to work with me
Mine is one where I struggle against
Pressures galore. I’m supposed to get a job, this or that.
But I have a condition where all I can do is work—- on my art.
So I collapse.
I hope Donald Trump doesn’t kill all artists.
I hope his presidency inspires great work.
Now, I have so much reason to be sick for
Let me turn and vomit.
There is not a box around my head