I'm not here for the fame,
you can keep the lights dim.
Tighten up the chains 'til
the night buckles to a bend.
I'll sit and listen to the crickets chip
away at this cellophane tomb
in an attempt to insulate the walls
with a billion little brutes,
like a pack of rabid dogs deliriously
chewing on the moon.
God forbid the covenant ever
summons this slumbering specimen.
He's Megaman turned Neanderthal
via one too many Super Mushrooms.