my mother,
my my...              mother:
clearly by the tokens
i've collected:
i'm the superficial eulogist
scribble:
time and death and all
that's to pass: self-evidently...

but...

you catch me at 3am
drunken, high:
giddy from creating something
a something that's
symphony...
you corner me:
did i tell you about the Rainbow
Brigadiers of what's ***
unlike?

when i cry the tears become
rivers into my ears
now i have an ant
crawling on my ear
i once had a mosquito:
**** at my neck...
i'm not Christ: i'm just the prefix
of anti-,

the night is dark and
i feel like feeding a symbiosis...
this ant...
crawling around my ear and neck:
yes! i'm feeding it music:
just like the shirt-of-a-****
and ****
i have in my ****
a worm to **** out...
but at least i found the concept of
individualism of ants
and now she it he is sleeping
finding a cuddly spot of pillow of flesh
no spiderweb of architecture...
now when i enter
heaven i will heave a sigh of relief
rather than disappointment:
because i was allowed back in
into Heavean:
i left Hell in the guise of the superiority
of Beelzebub:
i have Matthew typing my thoughts down:
oh: you don't know Matthew?
that's like another lineage of a Jesus...

but why would mother seek me out
at 3am... yes: drinking, yes, smoking:
but not wasting my time:
i did something creatively...
worms in my eyes i can see quiet plain-of-fact...
until i get knocked out:
cobblestone antics?
but woman: even if mother:
she despises not being mentioned:
Tyrant mother:
why do you want to see me
in a state of fermentation of intellect?
atheist that you are...
and i rigid Catholic, like father:
and this new beast of ***
this pacifying the already pacified Pacific...
am i the Napoleon not
for St Helena
but instead Kauai?

ant and spider and worm...
i need to take a ****...
a **** in my **** is like the tongue
in my mouth:
i don't, terribly, need it...
insects have a concept of sleep:
like wow: we have the concept
of the sun with sunglasses...
i've spent a day in hell:
i was the spouse of Pride and the daughter
of Shame...
one day in bed imitating Martin:
i want to be off this carousel of...
i don't even know what i owe to know...
i don't even know what i owe to know!

but at 3am:
and i'm off my rockers and nuts
and she keeps tracking me
as this loser homeless issue:
no no: no issue:
Nero the Captain Comedian
and Emperor:
i'm figuring out where to stab myself...
in the neck...
in the abdomen
in the piercing of armor akin to Kafka...
past the lungs and into the heart...

to give birth to death...
that's what the masculine intention is \
auto-suggestive off of: and of:
i am required to give birth to death...

this **** in my **** like the tongue in
my mouth...
this **** in my **** like the tongue in
my mouth...

sexually harassed at a Taylor Swift concert...
this ******* propaganda:
politically correct:
i took it like a bear:
i was not a monkey back then...
sly on the slide: and the summer stone...
begot suntans...

but why see me at my most destructive-constructive:
don't you know YHWH aligned himself
with Odin...
two are: eyes...
because all this Gabriela topic of the angel
who spoke to Muhammad about
Allah... who never, or ever, spoke since...
but Gabriel only spoke to Mary,
the marrying type... or typo...

        why is Catholicism so alien to the American
mind: let alone intellect... hmm?
and why linger until 3am
to watch me play the dutiful ogre
listening while she displays her...
it's 3am and i'm in-between Flaubert and
Stendhal...

                  so now i will suppose
being a convert...
oh but maybe the Poles are the French of
the Slavs...
but then that leaves a widened opening
for the authority of the Russians...
and i know:
the Germans don't listen to the French
or the English...
vice versus: compliment to the rubric of:
the English don't listen to the French
or the Germans... etc.

i feel obligated to feel ashamed whenever
in Poland and Russia is a topic...
i am a king in pawns...
the queen obligates the bishops and the rooks...
the king is pawn...
the queen... it's all be clarified from
abstract to simplicity to abstract-simplification:
to known to man: phenomenology...

now to **** out that tongue
from my ***...               a welcome... experience.