The Ultimate Goal

Karl Ove stopped writing,
His brain did not want to,
But the body can have another mind,
Simply opposing you,

Whether everything's simply in your thoughts,
The distinction remains,
The two components must work together,
As if their ultimate goal is the same,

So what does that mean when you're facing life?
Sadly, it don't mean much,
For both of them have to face the outside,
Which has its mind, as such,

Good luck with that,
Melding the three as one,
The trinity that yields utopia,
The dream of every revolution.

Is The Rain Falling?

He ended up on top,
By publishing his flaws,
Details from moments buried in the past,
Stretching liter'ture's laws,

Still, there was a confidence in his shame,
Sure of what he wanted,
Naturally retreating to the pen,
When his deficiencies were most flaunted.

Two chairs in the wind? Does that say it all?
It's something to unpack,
But, it is the simplest that most attracts,
Born of an innate knack,

Depth where there's none,
That's the most open text,
The one who gets drunk until he blacks out,
He who cums, miles from arriving at sex.

A Must Read, Part One

Just read Ove's part one,
Saga through the U.S.,
If you want to know what makes him so great,
Go ahead and read this,

I don't know how many parts there will be,
But this one's ten k words,
Describing in detail the things he did,
To make the trip's first few days just awkward,

He lost his license before this road trip,
Then failed to renew it,
Plugged up the toilet at his first hotel,
Tried his hand to clear it,

Proclaimed how great,
That the Times had hired him!
To describe America through his eyes,
But plans not to talk to one citizen.