apparently, august 18th is shitty poetry day, but i can’t wait till then. and besides, isn’t there some difference between ‘bad’ and ‘shitty’?

when i wake up i can’t remember my dreams

and when i’m asleep i can’t remember my real life

which is nice because that way you can’t

be so ashamed of what you have done.

i am the noam chomsky of bad ideas

and these are the deep structures of my regrets.