Gayle

I am no Gayle Goh;
sound the alarms
bang the pots
google my name
on the internet.

I am
afterall and unlike-
just a boy. Grieving down
neighbourhood school, living
by the fringe. Even macaronic
kinks don't cut it no more.

(I should
get a blog that
says nothing for
nothing).

Intellectual curiosity;
a naught and a nod
to yellowbellies.

- Is
not the silent but the words are
resgined. Is not the rage but
the powpow false. A licence
but of licentious
licence. A quiet but of quixotic
quietness. If not the sense,
then the sensational. If not
the grief, then the grievious.
If not the apathy, then the
antipathy. Always the
sinner, never the sin.

And the question in name
To be or not to be, would
rather stay frail. For
politics is a bite in the
Gayle.


cuRRent...jer  ¶ 10:08 am