By Stefan Petcov
One where code was
written, one where
everyone was bitten by the bug
that they were spitting,
vibrations licking from the
great beginning, big bang
and buck the weekends
killing, I phone this place
though we are spilling
darkest secrets to the
ceiling.
Delete this message from
your memory and you’ll be
feeling, hearts that lead
you to a purpose, maybe
one day you wanted to
dress a purse in a stress
and relieve it from that
because the best just seek
to serve this, they seek
because they believe that
every angle is a clearing
circus.
Ride these pastures profit
poetry, write your
Bukowski’s into poems,
see, then you will realise to
return to the love that lives
inside of me. What is it that
takes you higher, this is my
vibration, this is your
desire.
See the colour red and the
capital is owned by the
town crier, who’s spilling
out that hope for fire, an
egoist who’s relevant to
media and walks on wire.
Two number letter
combination that returns to
slay the nation. What’s the
policeman asking of the
hostess at the station?
What to buy to kill a beat or
what you murder for a
seat? Pay, delete, pay
retreat, patter like a leper
that keeps all the
strangeness of your
tapestry safe despite your
ancestry.
For more from Stefan Petcov check out these links below:
www.facebook.com/thelatekobayashi
www.soundcloud.com/thelatekobayashi
Stefan’s short story ‘Curtain Thoughts‘ is also available for your reading pleasure in our Ink Sac, right here.
