I’ll say hey
I did it to do it,
As I tended to do,
(Intended or not)
So many things
For really nothing.
There is no path
Or path to make.
There is no success
Or mistake to make.
There is no former
Or fan or successor.
No chance of critique,
Too unique of dance!
There is no beginning,
Or middle or end.
What’s interesting then?
Well nothing that is,
Just things that aren’t,
And never will be
For that to me
is my art.

They’ll say hey
We have his data.
He is a man of copy,
Who can’t pay rent,
Who can’t dance
And is stuck in the cloud.
A good soul for advertisements
If you ask me.
There.  Now this wasn’t
A complete waste of space.

M.R. Oct 29th, 2016