Anxious to talk to you

The nerves fire off warning shots, listen. Yes?
Oh, well, in mine eyes the camera jitters quite violently, blurring the spectacle of life.

If you miss much I miss it all, or most, not to curse this momentary lull with interjections of mine suffering but; no one’s listening.

Samuel Beckett says the essence is beneath and behind you, I, the unfortunate inessential, cannot see his meaning. Perhaps..?
Oh, well, all is a-float on strings of space and time, drifting far and wide.

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If You Know Me By Now Then You Don’t Know Me At All

If I crash my bag of incontinence and it flourishes beyond my reach would that make it O.K. for my defendants to do as they very well please?

I ask earnestly and would appreciate an answer pithily lest this caffeinated cup of tear-drops loses all character.
I’ll have you know my tongue only appreciates painstakingly cultivated character,
in all hot beverages be they tall, thin, and wide or not at all in between either way from here to there.
In a matter of speaking.

So if you will without much further undue digress afford me singularly a response
Do not mind my feelings, truth is of the most – the utmost, I beg your pardon – validity.

You’ll Find Me In The Texts

The Whole Truth Honest Truth and Nothing but the Truth subsides these boarderless realms with their dead punctuations which exist merely as ghosts and every breath stolen and every glide of the eye so smooth and uninterrupted an illusion of structure of sense rises from nothing but the grammar of perception or the perception of grammatical reason which grounds firmly the idea or belief that as long as the word which flows and runs on down stream from the bosom of honesty makes logical sense then there is no need for any of those clunky and clanky punctuation doodly marks

Incognito, My Dear

Saturday morning frost prickles curtains underbelly

Today out of slumber I rose peacefully

Thoughts a carnival of ponderence and winter loathing.

This non-localised-sense births coherence when partnered with rhyme!

Much intrigue in my deductions… Much indeed.

Try not to think of plots in holes. I free myself with this game I holds.

What stifles more other than rhyme marrying grammar? If, of a union, there was none – then words would be so such fun!