I Produce Nothing of Any Worth

I produce

Nothing of any worth

To anyone

Not even myself

When I am here

Inside the bunker,

Outside the forces crawl

Towards the capitol

Which they will never reach

Radio messages replay

Occasional bursts of happiness

Or is it merely a penis?

I cannot really tell

I produce nothing

Of any value, that is all

That I can say

For certainty

And when the bullet penetrates

My all-too active lazy brain,

My work shall be entombed

With what remains of me


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s