20 May 2012
You're in bits and falling Falling for love and who needs it Love? That strange, foreign number You try to equate late at night Just like Pi you're left without luck
You'd rather be busy With robots and candles Have roots in the future Or delve in the dark Real life holds so little allure Does that mean that it isn't Real at all?
Should you finish work late There's drinks and duck and pate Alone with a book Or thrown in your thoughts There's nothing to fear In the silence of mind There's little to shy In the pureness of noughts
Who would begrudge you An Alien fetish Dream of the Rood Make love to a lettuce Be just as strange As a skinny boy should Pour over comics And fuck in the wood
J. x
Synthetic Bohemian Rood • Opuss № I