the bar fights between paradoxes that erupt within our thoughts shatter
the walls to closed off spaces
and like this, unexpected things keep us on our toes.
These are the things that strike the match and light the stove.
Divine inspiration still sprouts from the cracks in our skulls,
yet we still fight to fill them with manure and *******
out of fear of what we could create,
that it could be something of Frankenstein’s creation.
But somehow we forget that the creation often takes the blame,
Not Frankenstein.