Nowhere
I’m going nowhere
and I’m going
very very
very
fast.
I’m going nowhere
and I’m going
very very
very
fast.
Much of what I write
has no point
which, incidentally
is the point
and a funny little paradox
I won’t begin to understand.
We all do what
we can.
We all do
what we can
just what we can
just as well as we can.
Even the devil’s
probably
doing no worse
than the very best
he can.
Of course, the grass is no greener
in the places I’m not
but hopefully, maybe
if I’m lucky
it’ll be a little bit
less brown.
If you’re going to love me,
don’t.
Of course I’m headed someplace
aren’t we all?
but
I hope I never get there
because, well
then what would I do?