verbal ycosis

polonius 101

buck up, kid.
life's tough but you're tougher.
we all make mistakes,
but they're mistakes we can weather.

hold that head high
and get on with your life.
what fun would it be
without trouble or strife?

your nose to the grindstone
and your hand on the wheel,
don't keep thinking so hard
on what it's you feel,

cuz that kind of thing
will just clog up your engine.
if you want to go smooth
all that guilt requires benchin'.


hamlet 104a

requiring the spirit made flesh to do otherwise than repeat and repeat and repeat itself is basically nothing more than an exercise, like turning tricks on street corners, skinning cats in several differing ways, and adding one part flour to every two parts butter as directed in christmas cookie recipes. it's impossible, of course, when your hands are tied behind your back and you're on your knees slobbering at the cock of one of fate's harbingers in the form of a woman who you done wrong, so wrong, so wrong, but it's an exercise. like stairmaster. you apologize and apologize and possibly apotheosize but there's nothing wrong with that, not since yesterday.

i want
to tear
the skin
off words.

delve deep,
o body.
i'll shroud
you.