oh what is this space between words and the emblem of speech, enchanted by the calamity
of opening my mouth to ask the very same thing?
oh how do i bloom so much with all my fairies Fae and all my moons New Earth
surging in the pixie ****** of what i can only assume is my purpose
among deader men than my living hell?
oh how i beg to be loved like a coin!
oh how i strive to slit the throat of a laughing troglodyte to let the sun shine
into the purpose of an idiot.
i consume what disbelieves the power of my weaknesses and secure a place in Valhalla
full of plush toys for Gypsies and waifs of every sadness
doing nothing but getting hit… by dead-end jobs
in the mouth of profound madness…
on this side of happy….
which incidentally, is the dark side of smiling
out of fear like an ape
with a word for a
man... without a god.