The existence is drained in hysteria of self-absorption
Hyper spherical lad.
The day is spent in a frenzy of self-deprecation
Accidental civilization.
The price is calamitous,
A reasoned worm gnaws at the core
Of his assumptions
Twenty – Eighty.
He is a seasonable man
Has a Freudian skull
That in the day,
Blooms the insipid city’s tastelessness
And at night,
Smells of stale blood and whisky.
The constant impermanence of life
Is held together by its assortment of dependability.
He runs a suicide risk
Of a Metaphorical death.
BIO
Ana J, is a twenty-seven year old visual artist. She grew up in India and Europe and is now living in the sunny Southern California. She is a literary buff currently working on her first collection of poetry. Her desire to evoke a response is a dynamically strong influence on both her lifestyle and her work.