I'm moving soon and I'm going through some of my old stuff. I found this little 12yr old notebook with a some silly illustrations and one poem in it... It gives me a weird feeling to peer into these little fragments of myself I'd left behind, in a box in a closet. Anyways, here's the forgotten poem:
On Hibernating Selflessness
As sure as the grizzly was a bear
he always wept in spring
his dreams thawed and melted away
the bitter nauseating realities of the world
lay before him now
forwarded by the brutal sun's rays
how crude of our lord and master to summon us into action without warning
and how insolent are we to even care
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