The Artist

Word means nothing

anymore

context falls

down mountain hills

ideas tumble

from the ground

onto lakes of salt

writing when - like

vodka s**t

some things start

to happen

work invades

turkey death

smells like

Life it's self

onto plateaus

dark and deep

outside mind control

Reviews

[gram linski]

Enjoyed this, sounds like the Artist is having a terse and torrid time, your writing style leaves nowhere to hide