is something I ask myself from time to time.
the meat grinds on, stray love
the time it takes on the shit box.
in a pub it’s easier to get a round than before.
we are all on our own but together.
remember the workshop on form,
immigrant stories you devoured
only for a sense of adventure.
if only we were admired as a people.
I move on in solidarity towards nowhere
convinced love is the only way out.