Why?
Because to him THE FOLLOWING is life as a poem:
“Go and get a job.
Go and find a flat.
Find somebody else.
Put them in the flat.
Make them stay.
Get a toaster.
Go to work.
Get on the bus.
Look at your boss.
Say, “fuck”.
Sit down.
Pick up the thing.
Go blank.
Scream internally.
Go home.
Listen to the radio.
Look at the other person.
Think, “WHY? Why did this happen?”.
Go to bed.
Lie awake!
At night!
Get up.
Feel groggy.
Put the things on – your clothes – whatever they’re called.
Go out the door, into work – same thing!
Same people, again.
It’s real, it is happening to you.
Go home again!
Sit.
Radio.
Dinner – mmm.
GARDENING, GARDENING, GARDENING, death.”
Mwahahaha.
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