Out of no fucking where.

an evening with its stars
and all that hanging up
and all this lying carelessly on
these streets and these roads
shimmering lights miles away
or is it my eyeballs cracking
imagining in turmoil what is quiet
I listen to the gibberish of an asshole
whom I have never talked to
whom I have never seen
he is talking without stopping
nothing stopping his talking
not these serene winds
or this clear sky
or this old corpse of a lady
sitting next to him
eating stones
nothing stopping him
I was talking to Dostoyevsky
it was a talk going all fine
and then that asshole jumped right
in the middle of it
in the middle of this evening
that was going all fine
before that asshole
decide to open his mouth
and then decided
to never close it
and now all that
which was going all fine
I wait for its return.

© Copyright 2020 Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.


A QUICK UPDATE ON THE BOOK

Finished the first round of editing. I thought it would take a week, and a week is what it took, so that’s good. Second round of editing, I plan to start soon. That’s all for now. I thank you for hanging around and reading my words.

– tomic riter

2 thoughts on “Out of no fucking where.

  1. And the gibberish was ignored
    and the mummy turned to dust
    and the light shone through the cracks
    and grew a small green plant.
    And the magi took it up
    with fresh soil around its roots
    and potted it on his windowsill
    until whole and hearty it grew.
    And then he freed it in love’s garden
    to thrive beneath the blue
    where soon came Dostoyevsky
    to admire shimmering stars there, too.

    ~ LiaThePo’ ;))

    What a great poem you wrote up there… wow. Struck a true chord somehow. I’ve been writing of corpses too. Glad the editing’s going so well, Tomic. :))

    Liked by 2 people

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