Leeroy Berlin has developed a crippling addiction to the fermented sap of the coconut palm since fleeing the forces of Western Civilization. He spends his days staring at the reef break and scratching poems into the homes of stray hermit crabs. He blogs at leeroyberlin.com and is the editor of Sanity not Guaranteed.
when there's no one to blame
of the things that you can thr[know] there is no
middling in the meddle carries us down
where currants overwhelm buds suspended in
shattered spring mornings and
larks lamenting the demise of that luminiferous aether
that bound the galaxy together
and now the stars come undone
and the fault, dear Brutus,
remains in ourselves.