i have seen
hate can sometimes be like a fresh
loaf of bread one breaks among
many many daemons one harbors
in one's head, heart and groin
some are worse than the others
some just hungrier
then i have lived
drunkenness can be the softest pillow
for a restless and uneasy heart
just as well being drugged
can carry a damn bad mood
to a plain tasteless flat
just to realize
there is no magic to the world
nor is there someone looking
over my shoulders to see if i did okay
and i ain't no atlas
this shit ain't easy!
on this vast plain of nothingness
there is no rhyme or reason
for none of the good or bad
ever committed
just senseless random collisions
of human bodies
even the language i shamelessly
employ to do my artificial and
none-the-less conceited deed
is devised to lubricate this
process of dying, eating, fucking
anything and everything human
rooted in dirt and manure
yet dreaming impossible skies
with wings made out of wax
no!
no escape!
no hope!
No comments:
Post a Comment