I’m separated from anything
Nothing
Everything

And the notion
Of social interaction

Speech

Or the public eating of a fucking peach
Sits
Laughs
Bites at my ankles like a stupid dog
Daily
Especially this one
Until the end.

Its Monday, evening
and so, I shoot myself
in the face
this time with a drink
of a larger calibre

the shot glass
both distraction
and cure
willed by
the days ahead

What meaning, then, do you ascribe to these poor words, found ailing and placed with not so intensive care upon the screen

should this be determinism of your own, of that of another author

Simply said, which one?

After all,
It who typed the keys
owns no meaning, for
that died
the moment the pixels heard an apparent voice