opportune ghost moments

While waiting for the people who should wake up
and go to their job

in the city that never sleeps(!), or slips(!)

or sips,
a part of your fingers, the little part
just goes to hell.

Let's not panic now, other 9 fingers still
going to heaven...

Stroke.
You begin to learn how annoying it is to have to locate tildes,
and shifting becomes a type of problem.
forget ever writing a song to the strum of baby E.


A ghost appears in your little finger and types twelve letters
where normally you might have written a sentence or paragraph.

It is a good opportunity to fuck with its soul,
the soul of that bastard finger,

the prodigal son. (finger)