(no subject)

You Know i got it and i love it
and i'll read it a thousand times
like i glance at your pictures, but
what do i do with that? what t'
'he fuck do i do now, save for
feed the leather of my cleats,
do the laundry and the dishes,
call a million friends or two,
sit on my hands, making wishes
that things were different?
cuz shit, i've done all that,
and thinking along those lines
i should maybe widen the scope, no?
and grant the world world peace
or a starving baby a chance to eat?
i've done all that time and again,
so, again, 'the fuck do i do now?
i can't take any real action
and there's no satisfaction
in anyone any place anything else,
so the question remains in my brain,
and bubbling up in a rare form of logic,
it seems the answer to all this pain
is to lovingly embrace nothing and -ness.