An unethical practice to fully comprehend my existence in
space and time,
I took the world hostage and prodded its inhabitants with
probes and electrodes
only to find myself
conducting self-lobotomies in front of the bathroom mirror;
Gazing through the eyes of McCrae,
I thrust my hands into
pristine soil,
tore up roots and
soldier bones, creating a
garden of chaos
only to find myself
amongst red petals and marrow
strewn across green vision fields,
but the larks still bravely singing fly!
I splattered Pollock across
impressions of Monet and Renoir
only to find myself
dripping like
Dali,
screaming like
Munch,
is this what beauty looks like?!
I passed up a
hitch on a
Heart of Gold
only to find myself
in the mire of a
Brave New World,
kicking at the dirt that sent
electroconvulsive shocks
up my spine,
is that a headlight reflection in my Bell Jar?!
I looked down the barrel of my fingertip guns, still smoking and
listened to the hollow wind of my self-inflicted universal entropy...
run.
Through a wormhole,
into the forest of wisdom where I reviewed observational data of my
chaotic string theories,
there I found myself,
rejecting the null and
assembling a fire of new Hope using the
burrs and thistles burrowed under my skin,
scratching and clawing at unethical practice.