song lyrics & minor poems
“My ego stands for what is the inverted meaning of my mood;
Inertia and Indifference well mortised where once my feet stood –
And thus – languid, I sleep the days away... –
Perhaps “homebound” gives flesh to what I say?!
Spare me the vicious “c” out of my pitch wor(l)d,
Form for me a tangible word – tangible, not cold... –
Something I would fain venture,
as an artist, to speak of its nature”
We’re in the woods, where I’m looking for the wordsmith’s shack;
The heavy smell of absinthe
Stimulates me to wake right after the old hag attack:
“Set forth with the vultures, you bird of doom!
The word you seek is “Spleen”, formed of blood and gloom!!!”