Thank You Scott Walker

 No one holds me too close to their skin

Much

These days seem wasted

Such

To point out obvious horizons and connections

Lost

In cloudless sorrow

Form

In infinite borrowed

Time

Reaction to unsolicited vision

Shaded

From blinding white landscapes

Color

Burns from the inside of eyelids

Project

Out into a veiled birth

Conceit

Seldom believed but always enacted

Relief

Never far but far from reach

Belief

Is nothing more than willful ignorance

Discordant

Thoughts torn from the arms of their nursemaids

Sent

Lonely and malnourished to reach adulthood

Bother

Those closest to our skin

Distance

Farther and farther from our skin

Much

I’m A Terrible Writer

I’m a terrible writer

A truly gifted and inspired terrible

A terror in every sense of the word

I spit words out

Choke words back

Spend them meaninglessly

Without care

Without concern for meaning

Context

Spelling

Usage

A more terrible writer has never existed

My words populate this page like drifters

Two-bit hustlers

Searching for meaning in

Definitions

Syntax

Punctuation

I type in an effort to relate thoughts that are disingenuine

Uninteresting

Staid

Tired

Boring

I’m a schill for a language I would prefer not to speak

I tell stories I have no interest in telling

I tell them badly

Falsely

Redundantly

Sanctimoniously

I write because I think I should, not because I’m compelled to

I write because it’s never easy and that makes it seem noble

Makes me a fraud

A charlatan

A blowhard

Blowing words out of my fingertips like an oversexed manqué

A plastic shell meant to resemble something

But hollow all the way through

Empty

A voidoid

Another tantrum with nothing behind it

Nothing important to say

I’m a terrible writer

I write everyday