Is my life capable of poetic substance.
As I sit and peer into the television screen , full of nonsensical boredom and pretentious drones of plastic Hollywood androids.
Presumptuous robots created by contemporary bullshit.
My mind drifts in and out of the box, just waiting for something, something like inspiration to come around the corner.
Just anything! As long as I am not sat rotting and smoking in this spot.
© Alex Turner 2015