disutility function

sometimes i dont know how to start so ill sit silent twiddling fingers over & over putting on the pencap taking it off a sentence starts & ends w/ each motion i cant keep a straight thought let alone a straight face i walk uneven across drunken matted down snow seeing nothing through these future fogged glasses were all too dissimilar holding hands under interstate overpasses sexy & swindling digging our toes in the asphalt i think theres nothing less forgiving than a familiar exit ramp or a dusty back road in some state youve never been in a rented car you cant maneuver under a mignight rain yr drunken mind cant pierce through u-turns on unlit curves what are those headlights up there ive got no patience for the uplifting & ill always waste yr time worrying abt time gone or remaining

-> the scribbling

this is a few years old, i think …
sometimes even i am surprised by the many different moments i end up tying together in one little bit of writing