The bitter despair of the world,
its entirety,
profanes and shrieks
louder than banshee
or immense Tourette
for release.

and no, it isn't fair
that one should carry
alltheweight
but itisso.
static and frigid
perpetual panging echoes

and so the sooty waterfalls
erode Grand canyons
from the sandstone, the ugly grittiness
of my poisoned empty essence.

too charming,
rhyme and rhythm
slither greasily and gassily,
segregating.
bourgeois and homeless verse
never Touch.

and so even my Own words war
and hack more than cult horror films
that flicker on the moldy bleeding brick
of narrow sweating alleys
that have seen
rapeandmurderandfearandlustandgreed
and muchworse.
but it is all of my kind; the residence of my mind