Head Crud
The urgency feels gone.
But if logic were a dic
tater, would I be stuck
mid-daydream? Resoundingly,
no. And fascism, like
unemployment, sucks. So
here I go again. And yet
I sit and wait for another word
for procrastinate. But, though
the bell dongs hollowly, there
are too many bats in this here
belfry. I should wait until the
dust settles is a conundrum,
thinks the dumdum (ad infinitum).
