Dean Strom

Ode to the hopeless cafe

Get your dirty fingerpicking off me
Let my head lie lay on this table

Show me that picture again
Kill me to the killenth degree

Don’t pick the cello up off my body
Foursquare and several moon glows ago

Constitute an attraction of various elements
Not looking to be commingled

You barely began when another one fizzled
I expect my snapchat to outlast my body

Core fizzulate this. Sure I made that up
Fuck you

These neurons are dying off anyway
Never in my wildest imaginings

Has my synaptic chat snap
Not outlasted my breathing body.

Arthur Strom

•Bloog Mandrake