How to you keep yourself fabulous?
When next to a french person,
Who talks in poetry
even of the worse things.
Think of a noir, a french noir.
You're to fall in love with the nearest lunatic.
You've been told to do so.
The lunatic narrates it.
The lunatic breeds at the brewery,
On the evil yeast of doom.
This is no doom for the larks.
This doom is everlasting.
Forever to be pulled back from the gloom
of doom.
Cant even write a paragraph
Without falling into it.
There is always my persona,
The personality behind each venture.
That betrays the fierce and the stupid.
The stupid comes clear most.
But I can see the light,
The stupor has been weakened.
It grabs me so much more less.
Lest it be gone soon.
Oh then what a life,
The dramatic love should flood
the barriers of my existence
and dwell there, for a while.
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