So many friends lost for “friends” gained.

Was it worth it for those passing hedonistic moments?

Those peals of unrepentant head-back tongue-flapping spit-smacking laughter,

That saturated overspill of ecstasy at the impulsive idiocy of another drenched mind

So unforgettably preserved in a ten second disappearing clip carefully carelessly captioned


Lost to the ether before your mind remembers to unremember,

Plunging deep into a dark vice where the beat pounds so unrelentlessly

Jaw aching, stomach turning, eyes itching and squinting and blinking and burning

Unaware of time or date or where you are or who you were, 

Or how you lost yourself.


Writers Block

Blank page squares up with blank mind,

All words abandon.

Grasping at nothing,

A blind man locked in an empty room.

Gaze through subject into gaping abyss,

Pen, ink-full, languishing.

A black hole for inspiration,

Where books go to die.