going mad now / gone already;
                controllable, man-ageable madness; left
drinking right less &
smoking right less &
barely thinking at all; work all day
devoid of liberties & freedoms & free of thoughts of
                   liberties & freedoms;

                                                                                gone

temporary burning, speed infections – spitting down narrow streets too fast & too much coffee without God & cigarettes; I sleep quickly &
wake exhausted.

                                perhaps a little distant now
                                perhaps a little lost or
                                                                losing something –
                not sure what.

                                I’d show my work as is to people
I know – don’t want to;
                I don’t want my depressions taken
from me – taken too seriously;
                rather fodder for endless jokes &
no hatreds revealed
                but rage & rats cause bitter smiles to blossom
into joyous things;

I don’t want to be seen every day imp-ortant,
I think,
to keep me small, confined in dark places
where only I can see
& confess
& let me out fractured to jack off ego

                glad no adverts bear my name; careful about that –
no advertising,
or sharing,
no liking
or subscribing
to anything – like that’s the point

idle thoughts & mad
desires – the same nothing
not worth
the time of universes

live a quieter universe,
live a secretive universe &
let the celestial body
lonely in bars & pubs
(like these) &
offices & cafes where
I’ll always find whiskey in my coffee
or rum, when I’m desperate

                glad now my depressions are meta tags
& nothing more – living on wordpress sites
across the world – callipers to drag
foreign eyes to hear
exhausted notes I play.

I’m sorry for being
so unhappy all the time.

sorry all the noises I make &
all the tunes I play
are so ugly.