pretending to be intelligent # 1

in confession there is something rather unconfrontational, or rather, a bonus
of striped forms,
i never did need to be a starfish, though, something tells me i should be a pompous,
if you ever did catch me wanking,
there can be no desire as such, unless we are seen walking along a beach,
which is as scottish as anything,
unless we are walking and the moon is further than mars,
and our breath, which is reaching,
further than a goldfish,
further than facebook,
as we definitely should not kill that chicken,
the one that really loved us, more than our cat ever did,
i’d rather pretend to be alive, as i know little else, but the time i was dead,
& i baked a cake & looked after the boys & did the right thing,
& the machines, the metal, the metal was the most amazing part,
perfect microchips,
then it was a good thing to make love,
or spunk everywhere,
i don’t kare,
lots of love,
i probably had to

there was no boat in the dock like you said there would be