Work Text:
I was unaware, perhaps my own ignorance;
Or as I’d always like to say,
Perhaps it was my own devotion, in pursuing tales;
For which my neck will not to wake ‘long and along
So I laid on the desk, back hunched over, all slumped on the desk
And then I turned my ear to my desk
I did not know, to not make my grave
As people as the universe passed by my desk
You slammed the bottle on the desk
Came down crashing,
Through the air’s drag and my fate’s illfortune
A powerful, destructive, catastrophe upon my desk
My ears, the victim
Your bottle, the terrifying force
Upon my nerve, it was a overwhelming flood of sound
Vibrations clanging, crushing, sawing into the wood of the desk
Alike of a flood and a build falling onto Earth
An evil orchestra
Your bottle, slammed on my desk
And my ears, refraining from my desk
And then
Born is a wish
That I hadn't turned my ear to my desk.