to write like a dog

A dreadful day awaits outside

the price of getting up

the cost of getting what you wanted

nothing is enough

To write like a dog

As a concept machine

Or a car with no wheels

In a sea that froze up

With an engine that burns

the dreams that once lit

a slowly declining physique

And you‘re right

But they‘re rich

And you‘re not 

So they laugh

still, you always praise

the blurriness of light

and I still believe in nothing less 

than stunted forms of meaning

my reflection always lags behind production