I’m completely over it.
Almost.

This ever present guilt,
an effervescent spirit;
it took death to impress.

Ephemeral pleasures,
hold on, it’s already gone.

All clowns cry,
our clocks wink goodnight.

Won’t buy what you’re selling;
rather rob you blind in broad daylight.

The most beautiful thing in the world
is realizing there is no soul that carries on.

Beyond and after
is just here and now,

an angle unseen
from a self-centered mirage.

 

Kevin R. Farrell, Jr. is a New York based artist, poet, and educator whose work has been published in Burning House Press, Rumble Fish Quarterly, Adroit Journal, Terror House Magazine, Former People, Blakelight Magazine, Visitant Lit, Ink in Thirds Magazine, Indiana Voice Journal, Foxhole Magazine, Yo-NEWYORK!, BONED Stories, Yes, Poetry, Digging Press, The Writing Disorder, and Ghost City Press.
His work attempts to capture life from the vantage point of someone in the backseat of a stolen car running on fumes. His poems are a play on words in the form of political, satirical, surrealist, tongue in cheek rants that often border on stream of consciousness ramblings that are a last-ditch effort at taking it all in before we get taken out.

For more information regarding Kevin’s work please contact:

kfarrelljrart@gmail.com
http://kfarrelljrart.wixsite.com/kfarrelljrart
IG: @k.farrell_jr
FB: @kfarrelljr_art
Twitter: @KFarrellJrArt

Image: Collage by Joan Pope