Quest

Quest for truth
Uncontrollable spasms
Victims of bad decisions
I have no problem
With the situation
Except that I brought it up at all
I too, fall short at times
At times, on my face⠀

The walls often disappear
But they always come back
Look out for your friends
Or else you’re not
Looking out for yourself
Make excuses for death:
It cannot help itself,
The way it often acts at parties,
After a few drinks⠀

A scallop bleeds
Blue, checkerboard patterns
In the snow banks of Missouri
Fried food is rather popular
Down there;
Great Kings work in small,
Greasy food joints
Where it is proclaimed that
On the eighth day
God created fishnet stockings
And we saw
That they were good

From the book Next

Author: Kevin Trent Boswell

Kevin Trent Boswell is a thing that once blinked briefly in and out of existence. It made noises and gestures while it lasted. The exact nature of its demise is unclear. Some sources say it collapsed beneath the weight of entropy and time. Other tertiary evidence suggests the possibility that it was destroyed by a predator, an accident, or perhaps even by itself. The truth of the matter is unknown. Luckily, no one cares. View all posts by Kevin Trent Boswell