I am just god’s excuse to make a ****** nose
and bruises surrounding
eyelids, even when I get the perfect amount of rest

and when autumn comes
barreling leaves from god’s big sky
I am what catches the sand, blonde grains changing
the color of my eyes.

It is just as true that he cuts the tails
from mermaids and tells me that I can find girls
who would rather be a worm instead, my

flesh is already rippled
pale and translucent pink, the best of beige between

my thighs. Because one morning god called
and I said I would not wake up
and he said that if I did not, he would wring mud
from his terrible angels’ wings and I

still never woke from my sleep.
I am his gross girl, pleased to be the queen of slugs
as long as this is the worst my sins can do.

Pale scrapings of people
with lipstick ringed glasses
and cigarettes burning,
and laughter trickling up and down
their knotty throats.
What is this,
a gathering of henhouse critics?

My father's voice in the back of my head,
saying, forget that I'm dead and if you
can not do that than pretend.

I am standing
just outside the gallery
beneath the shadowy bough of a birch.
The moon is floating in the sky's dark lap.
Faraway I can hear the ocean sigh.

Now father, I am asking,
what smile are you wearing?
What color are your eyes again?
How many teeth have you lost?

Don't you think I want a kiss.
Perhaps I don't. Perhaps I don't
want to stand and pretend you
not dead while the wet, champagne
mouths of the living tell me how wonderful
your paintings are.

As they crook their fingers and strain their necks,
lose their vocabulary inside the artwork's depths
and colors.

Father, I want your reputation to outlive the pursuits
of others with their iron-on reviews after an hour's
worth of browsing at a lifetime of your work.

Father, are you crying?
Stop that sound.

Adieu, farewell earth’s bliss!
This world uncertain is:
Fond are life’s lustful joys,
Death proves them all but toys.
None from his darts can fly;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

Rich men, trust not in wealth,
Gold cannot buy you health;
Physic himself must fade;
All things to end are made;
The plague full swift goes by;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

Beauty is but a flower
Which wrinkles will devour;
Brightness falls from the air;
Queens have died young and fair;
Dust hath closed Helen’s eye;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

Strength stoops unto the grave,
Worms feed on Hector brave;
Swords may not fight with fate;
Earth still holds ope her gate;
Come, come! the bells do cry;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

Wit with his wantonness
Tasteth death’s bitterness;
Hell’s executioner
Hath no ears for to hear
What vain art can reply;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

Haste therefore each degree
To welcome destiny;
Heaven is our heritage,
Earth but a player’s stage.
Mount we unto the sky;
I am sick, I must die—
        Lord, have mercy on us!

How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Sitting here with faces.
Thinking of different places.
Everyone’s different cases.
They matter.
But how do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Looking at the teacher.
She’s talking ‘bout the preacher.
The faces have the features.
They change.
How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Concern to learn.
Concern to earn.
Concern to burn, the books we read.
The books we read is to lead.
To lead the faces to the places of….
How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Do I have to care about this lecture?
Do I get a say about the next section?
I’d rather paint a vivid picture for the teacher.
Still talking ‘bout the preacher.
The preacher and a creature.
Who are they?
Am I the preacher?
Am I the creature?
Talking in circles.
Because none of this matters.

Beating Beating And Beating
My heart is beating
As someone
Playing music
Me?...Yes!..Me...
Alone in this eccentric world

Full of grief
Water is flowing
No...Tears are flowing
As a waterfall
I become slow as
It Slows down
I become fast as
It fasts
Air is moving
Here and there as like
I am running to escape
Here and there
Alone in this eccentric world

Singing singing and singing
Song of the rain of tears
Walking on lava
On a hot cemented floor
Aah!...My skin is burning
I am burning

Burning burning and burning
Someone is playing flute there
Just getting attracted towards it
Wanna fly
Floor is full of fire
Don't wanna walk here

Crying crying and crying
Talking with air
C'Mon get me along with you

Nothing nothing and nothing
Is happening as i want
Whole world is conspiring
My heart is speaking
My eyes are speaking
Words of love
But love wants thunder

Shouting shouting and shouting
But nothing is happening
From the beginning
Walking on the lava
It seems that
I am from another world
From that eccentric world

C'Mon let me get out of it
Pick me to your heaven like world
This world is my enemy
I have got fed up with it

Begging begging and begging
C'Mon make me escape
From this eccentric world

Let me go along with you
Let me hold your hand
I have been totally drenched
In the rain of tears
C'Mon make me escape
From this eccentric world

I laugh as i cry
I cry as i laugh
This world is engulfing me
C'Mon make me escape
*From this eccentric world