Badly timed comments..

Can’t even speak cos
I’ve been screaming.
Voice is gone, but I’ve
Never found meaning
In anything seen on an iPhone screen,
Covered with tears,
Cos it’s too demeaning.
So-called seeming
Elucidation, wish I was dreaming.
Wanna-be psychics claiming fusion
With The Universe but can’t converse
With Major Tom or his lonely soul,
Life beyond Mars, or a black hole,
Sad confusion, but just a delusion that
They are a Spiritual Ground Control.
But can you hear them Major Tom?
Can you hear them Major Tom?

Recondite and trite.

Death.
I have split into pieces
Mind to discombombulate,
Unbeknownst to a soul mate
I splinter.
Rescursive cursive curses
Upon the ruins of my life.
Eat it whole,
Fucking fast food and finger diets,
Go on and fucking try it.
Nothing but the butt of a joke
I’ll never understand,
And everywhere, the silent man
In the long, black cloak.
Maybe that’s the joke,
And me, no more
Than a french-fry.