secrets secrets sunshine sunshine sitting on a terrace or whether alone looking out the window from your bed the strain is the same. the strain is yours and mine. lumber jacks and laborers sweat and port the mulled conscious of deepest regrets the building blocks of faith and youth to which we hold no hostile or love-able deemed features bear. the rancid taste of exhaust fumes. the bus just passed me by and let its hydraulics loose on this world and closer let loose on me rabid fogs afoot and living flame curses are lit in spirit of destroying untouchable and inedible desires and evil. the evil can be seen. the only difference between me and you is im taking up this space and your taking up that one. we think the same use ten percent of brains and have most likely tittilated of the same frames of 9mm or vcr or dvd footage of people doing what we should be doing. falling in and out of love so many times it becomes tiresome. could the life of an imbecile agree to the prospect that i could offer him. what would i offer if i wasn't the imbecile. homophobes, arachnaphobes, the mile high-a-hobes custom made probes and cars machinery we need to make us go and transport us not just from a to be but c to z would be nice as well. doesn't that rhyme as much as the blue and yellow flowers and the starry night that poses no threat to imagination and the integrity of a man in a suit that needs the rush with needle and adrenalin and pen on paper its all as important as the man in a long coat on his needs praying to a half empty bottle of rum singing 'hi ho hi ho its off to the bar we go'. winos we call them or are they just successes - they know what they want. i'm more successful than that i am led to think but have no idea where i will be tomorrow. scary hairy eight legs and fourteen wheels. turning that milk into cream and turn more into butter. your butt landslides in the grease at the bottom of the mud is your destiny. get with it, get connected and get on top of the issues at hand. who has the biggest, who has the most who wears it right out of the shop and onto the high street for only the best to see. its important to take note of notes that can be revised for examinations and exterminations all at the same time. the degradation of homes into a society we make via penis and by car gotham and super heroes are more common than you think, they are more needed in this weary eyed town where every one wishes they could stop time. stop the way they live and change it into another direction. not even a research analyst can figure out the data input onto the daily newspaper that screams death and annihilation and fuming the goodness in a half hearted way so that when i lean on my fireplace hearth with the smoke crackling on up to my lungs and filling me with a sense of homeliness the turkey sliced by electric knife and the woman is wearing a cowboy hat, not even then do i feel apart of the world i just feel like i am at home, safe in my surroundings but hearing everything. heaven forbid i put the radio on. radio silence in urgency coming through the speakers as i listen to my favorite band or artiste if they like to sound different. the difference is in the spoken word. i choose a robot over the female that lives across the way. the one that lives up to expectations where as the mechanical subsidy is just less pleasant. pleasantries aside it works out best for her. if you choose not to see or hear especially to the radio life, then at least the robot will get bored and can be buried, the woman across the way will just end her life. inevitable. maybe she will end mine. predictable. whats an ending that hasn't been told.