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Poems by Inchiki
just testin
just to see really
if there's anything still in there
i knock on dead wood
the inner precipice
is far far away
this fine day
a whole new
loneliness
is come home to stay
but that's ok
this mind is just
a figleaf
an ignorant trick
i would undo it
if i had the art
grime marks the corners
of all my
favourite windows
tiredness fills
the panes
and my veins
the drunken ghost
is gone
here i am left
as empty as air
there is no meaning here today
i am writing from an old palette
everything is grey
the voices
of those big ole booming trees
are lost to me
i can't even feel the way
to my own obituary
