I was deep cleaning my flat while running a zombi apocalyptic simulation inside my head. As if… But what if… I had to leave in a rush or die instead? Would a more adept person come in to take my place? In charge now of the range of crap I own. Rent free as well……
I’m Not Made of Concrete (Cost of Living Crisis)
I’m not made of concrete (Cost of living crisis) Sitting at my desk. I deem the column in front of me hollow, Lacking concrete. Perhaps it is the cold sensation coming out from it, Or the mould around it that gives it that eerie touch. These four walls have yet to fool me. I work…
A runner sits on the hospital’s garden bench, And hears a woman battling off the hospital staff, ‘Not again,’ ‘Get off!’ All the yelling was coming from the top floor mental health ward. The runner stayed vicariously fighting restraints nonexistent to her. A butterfly stood next to her, Practicing the art of minding its own…
I Eat Swans (An Anecdote)
Like a sheepdog, I herd those away from me, in Spanish:‘Are you visiting ‘X’ today?’‘And ‘Y’ and ‘Z’ How are they?’‘The Queen died today,’ I said.My friend in Colombia told me that day.‘There are going to be memes.’They said. I went to a party; later on that week.In which coke head broke an ‘I Eat…
I’m tired.Another interview, another day.‘We need to give our emails a human touch,’Said my manager today.Recruiters and things are hard to keep up with.And that is the most human shit I can say.
Debut Spoken Word Album
Hi! No, uhm, Hellooo! No, no.Ok, listen, I’ve walked around in circlesSeveral times now. I’ve practised in front of the mirror.‘It needs to be eye-catching. It needs to be personal,It needs to reach out to a new audience.’‘… I need to become a marketer of words of sorts.Show my face to the world. Just make…
With Spring coming, I can’t wait for a new start.Here is a poem from last year’s autumn. The windy weather rushed us in,Except for some daring smokers.I want to write about the fountain outside.And the waves that are forming on the water because of the breeze.I both want to lament and celebrate the end of…
I’m glad that you are a given in this household,I’m thankful I don’t have to go out there and find you.‘You don’t interrupt,’ you say.When I step in, and you are watching some old film clip.We are better perceived unproductively.
Dear phone, you aren’t there all the time. But I don’t know if that registers with you. Trees don’t produce actual shade on Google earth, And you know my mood depends on the state of the world.
One day is pizza or salad. Whether I’m relaxing or pretending. I don’t know which version of myself I want to be, but at least I’m determined to be. The other is grief or relief. Guilt over emptiness. Whatever pleases the person next to me. I tell the story however I want it to be.