Cursor
#122
October
17,
1997
Blinking,
bothersome
cursor
why
do
you
haunt
taunt,
and
tease
A
wild
flow
of
endless
passions
dripping
from
florecent
fingertips
why
oh
why
blink,
blink,
blink
like
nervous
eyelashes
Twitch
and
rage
as
I
shake
your
hand
line
after
line
like
that
of
a
dead
rotted
trout
blank,
hollow
bottomless
pit
Nothing
left
to
say
or
write
Words
are
useless
to
bright
stars
more
significant
and
alive
than
I
dead
white,
virgin
sheets
wanting
to
be
ruffled
and
soiled
from
bloodletting
oh
why
oh
why
nothing
to
offer
but
increase
hearts
in
anticipation
of
spring
awakening
A
dragged
out
winter
of
cold
sterile
sheets
Never
the
warmth
of
heat
seeking
words,
only
you
mimicking
my
feeble
attempts
for
a
bigger
portion
of
blanket