The author does not make any claim
it is an attempt to recreate
no matter how far your relations vary
her eyes gradually glazed over
similarly structured ominous choruses
cluttered before abruptly ending
typically ugly but nonetheless
replete with harmony
occasional ritualistic incantations
providing the ocean and wave
Does it matter at all that I ever was alive?
I do not like to think about my impending death.
normal play your turn you lose
until then, each a legal move to make
everybody stopped counting
you can't see it but know roughly
an absolute enormous world
occasionally daydream again
he died in a lunatic asylum
everything the simplest thing could possibly be
all my life played games
and now and then
a consequence
shouldn't be
disguised as
usually
it is.