Poem -
Washing Machine
The washing machine screamed profanities through the open kitchen door
It's language was crude and bullish..Â
It's horns cut through my fragile stateÂ
Like a rabid throthing boarÂ
No consideration for wisdom
There was anarchy and pain
This mechanical beast vibratiled wildlyÂ
With no consideration of consciousness...
It's ignorance cut through me
Like sideways stinging rainÂ
What have we created?
This aborhant crude machine
This thing has no respect, love or compassion..
It takes pleasure from disturbing us
From our lucid spiralling dreams
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
Mate, they have stop and pause buttons. Sounds like a hangover to me.Â
Still, I know what you mean.Â
NigelÂ
I was actually on psychoactive substances and this foul mechanical machine kept spoiling the mood. Written from a past experience.
Thanks for reading and leaving feed back Nigel.
- SydÂ
Yeah been there. You're welcome mate.
Nigel.Â