Beer

I sweat a lot
I mean a real fucking lot
more than you
It starts in my middle back
drips down
I feel it
I know I’m fucked

I was standing on a ladder
the very top where you aren’t
supposed to stand
but that’s what we all do

And the sweat was dripping down my back
as I’m trying to staple this fucking line
Miss hit
staple is dangling
No big deal normally

There’s a fucking convertible Porsche under me
as I’m standing on this stupid fucking ladder
with sweat pouring down my back into my ass
and I miss hit the blue staple with a perfectly good hammer

Now though, I’m typing about it while wearing my dirty
work clothes and drinking a cold beer

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts

We know a man who is fucked constantly. He doesn’t understand. We watch him. He bends his head forward and receives his statements as though he lives above. He doesn’t. It’d be nice for him to know he’s just a man, being fucked.

 

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – He had forgotten he was crazy.

For a long time he had forgotten that he was crazy.  He remembered when-  A friend told ‘her’ about another ‘him’ and being told about this helped him to remember that the two are one and the same. He wasn’t sure he should believe himself because he knows there can’t be two.  It’s a bit like this-  It’s dark and you feel a large stone.  You sit on this stone.  As you touch the stone you feel bits of dirt crumbling off. The dirt falls onto the ground and you’re no longer sitting on the stone.  You’re now looking up.  At another. The ground is your new home and above is a lie. It never happened. There was no stone and there wasn’t a ‘her’ and there isn’t any darkness nor any crumbling dirt.  And there was one. -M. Taggart