it is half past midnight
and I am stumbling around in
the dark of enlightenment,
trying to find the lesson
it has for me this time
so I get the hell
out of
here.

it’s a funny thing,
knowledge,
one of the trickiest
of the trickster
gods.

the one with the sickest
sense of humor, that’s for
sure.

but he seems
to know what he’s
doing.

he always helps me out,
eventually.

but come on man.
I know what you’re doing.
stop ******* around
and just hit me
with it.

neither you nor I want it
but I’ve got to have it,
don’t I?

so hit me with it:

not in the shins with the coffee table,
not on the back with the arm of a coat,
but right in my face, with the full brunt
of your force.

I want it.
I need it.

it’s half past midnight
and I’ve got **** to
do.