the more I hang out here with him
the less likely it becomes
to build a ship in
the real world
because HERE, in
the world of literacy, where
mundanity is crammed into idealized concepts, chunks of written spirit,
will always outweigh the monotony of THERE, profane, everyday life.
but its what i want.
and it pains me to realise
that it may not be what he wants,
maybe never will.