i'm in space without a pulse

[slurredverse]

all of my writing time has been taken away
and showtunes and announcements are hell
I hate morbidly indecent grammar
and paisley fabric
most of all, I hate her voice.
she's everywhere.

the plaid is dirty and the plastic is chipped
I've had just about enough of literacy
I prefer "love, violence and iambic pentameter"
I learned that back in the eighth grade
when learning was compressed
and intelligence didn't count for anything.

it's hanging like a bad lamb
I mean, a black sheep.
who knows anymore with these new rules
is that a threat or a promise?
it's been awhile since I've heard that
that could be good, or not.

time constraints and wasted words
I draw on tables
write in newspapers
there is nothing I would rather see
than the dashboard and open road
I'll stand on a podium in front of you
and I'd spill my heart out to the audience.

this has no introduction
no starting line
my writing is way too big
and I'm going to fail life.

if that even matters anymore.