If I Don’t Feed This Thing

He wasn’t from here and

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t stay here and

He couldn’t leave.

No one saw him choking.

He spat privately.

The atmosphere weighed heavy and

He could scarcely believe

His lungs went to manual.

He had to beat his own damn heart.

And yet, some crazies wondered

Was he doing his whole part?

Well, they could all breathe easy.

On automatic thought’s a fart

In the wind.

Thoughts don’t last long.

Streak through and they’re gone.

Ain’t hangin’ around for some

Automatic clown who

Don’t even know they’re breathing!

 

 

 

 

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