bored to death

poetry

the day’s the same
it is i who changed
or what my mind’s comprised
and shaped by what i decide
to see

surprised i am to find
after translations finalized
that complicated apes
live in a loud
but boresome state

whether time dilations are inside my mind
or in space and matter’s continual incline
or are choked by my intentions i
wouldn’t bet a dime

Leave a comment