All Tomorrows

what a miserable sod... spot-on, gentlemen, spot-on. you see, two years ago to the day was the happiest day in our life. spot off.

so deafening at first, your death bell's toll is receding at last into the close-by hills but no - the echo bounces back from an infinity of mundane objects until my soul rings like a Tibetan prayer bowl rendering what's worldly frivolous I love not, desire no one no room now for the feedback loop of subsconsciousness oh my love, my only love - could I only write about anything else, but the damage is done, and the crowd shoves in to see nine lives gone at once . I'm yearning for a friend

new data over old data erase-overwrite as life moves on at least while it does, for will I join you in the grave sooner or later? later would be fine so I can become myself again in the meantime, a flower would be fine

the distant sky above is filthy like mud this must be the lowest point in-between this world of hills for whichever way I turn I always roll back until I don't move again. so spit in your palms and rub your hands - there's work to be done, old man

lightning’s split the thinking tree in three there's nothing to think about anymore, nothing to decide

hollow empty quiet – this house in the rain where you will never know that, yes, I'll be driving the damn mercedes any day now where you talk to me no more when I report the 2 nd orange slice of cancer they’ve cut out of me. [no, it won’t get me] hollow empty impassive – these pointless underwater days where you hear me no more as I fight back sadness like an urge to retch until only a numb, deep pain in my gut remains. I miss you in these silent days. the key is gone

I think I have to rephrase: you said não sei viver sem ti, e agora vais ter de viver sem mim - I don’t know how to live without you I don’t. what we did together has become nothing now, and I sit and stare