if i forget what to say,
forget what to write,
lose thought, train floating off into ether,
then sometimes i smack my head against
a wall; nothing real hard,
but the room where i do most of my poetry writing
has a lot of holes in the drywall
that i’m too distracted to fix//
don’t know how to fix, either way
hangul graffiti hung neon in a floating sky
made from acetylene clouds swimming above
in a whirlwind of fie-ry breaths made=
to look like an accident, but it’s not
actually all that accidental;
in fact, one might say that lighting the night sky
on fire was on purpose,
i know i certainly would
it’s hard to get through to you,
when you keep playing that damn video game,
it takes up all your time and attention,
i really wish you would just listen to the rotund verisimilitude
playing in the background,
it’s made up of the same radiation that
created the universe,
though i suppose so too were those video games
that entropy seems to love
Fred Aiken Writing 