The subterranean world heaves with the calamitous humidity of human contact.
It pollutes the pores with its ignominious deceits as I pass through burdened and deliberate.
And what of those conspirators?
They fill the commuter trains in a commiseration and celebration of their mutual fate.
Wasted, a valiant drunk among sober faces---or sober among drunk faces
Oh but a toast to mutual indifference and the ordination of a new God.
Conceal all weapons in this world of tunnels but I don’t forget where mine’s hidden.
I declare to these comrades that I will have no part in the idol worship of numbers and spinal fluid.
I await another fate.
They follow the abortive coat hanger of codependent thought like lambs blind and naked in a cunt like tunnel and always make their stop on time.
In the night the furies rose and spun some eternal wool around my eyes-- filling my ears with cotton-- I’d like to hear from you soon but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to listen.
No comments:
Post a Comment