Jan 2011
I cough and take a furtive drag
And walk suspended magnetically
Through an alley full of cobwebs and decaying flesh
Leftovers is what it is
And I rip myself off
A piece of the wallpaper to roll a joint, while
Mechanical spiders traipse their plastic webbing
Replenishing the sticky paste
Cheaper to produce, but far from long-lasting
And
In the mirror my reflection holds a fortune cookie
Cracks it open
Reads aloud
And hundreds all around him hear him and applaud
But mirrors have no speakers
And all I hear’s the mechanical whir
The spiders’ servos stepping, sliding, spinning threads
Of nylon
In service of some sickly, sapient sadist
Who’s been slurping down the fluids in my brain
Nightly
And just like me—
To **** a man and throw the body in someone else’s garbage disposal
The smoke rings rise and float away
‘Til Someone sees them undulating
And I, in secret, *******
Into an old bible which I’ve renovated
Now it’s livable
A real great place to raise your kids up, as they say
I’ve added levels
Torn down all the walls
The living room’s the dining room’s the bedroom
As it were.
And I have to shove it ‘tween the dumpster and a rat
Who’ll never talk because he’s one of me
Though unlike me…
Forced out by higher powers than himself
At least…
Assumed powers.
Though as we know, dominion over Earth’s a fool’s game
That real estate investment you made’ll
Swallow you up before
Somebody else could lay more…
Justifiable claim.
I say this to be a comfort.
Though there may be none left for you.
And Someone follows blindly
Watching smoke rings through black sockets
Clawing his way toward
Clawing at my wallpaper.
My spiders run and hide in fear, their tails between their eight robotic legs
Thirty-two red eyes glow through the shadows
Quake with fear
Someone trips and stumbles through
With nylon clasping at his body
Never taking hold
He snaps the lines before the paste can even get a chance to stick
And I on high
Up fire escape, watch down with
Sudden fear for realization of the present
And Someone toddles away
No lasting damage done
I leave it ‘til tomorrow to recover
And shred my secrets into pieces large enough to read
And scatter them into the night.
And walk suspended magnetically
Through an alley full of cobwebs and decaying flesh
Leftovers is what it is
And I rip myself off
A piece of the wallpaper to roll a joint, while
Mechanical spiders traipse their plastic webbing
Replenishing the sticky paste
Cheaper to produce, but far from long-lasting
And
In the mirror my reflection holds a fortune cookie
Cracks it open
Reads aloud
And hundreds all around him hear him and applaud
But mirrors have no speakers
And all I hear’s the mechanical whir
The spiders’ servos stepping, sliding, spinning threads
Of nylon
In service of some sickly, sapient sadist
Who’s been slurping down the fluids in my brain
Nightly
And just like me—
To **** a man and throw the body in someone else’s garbage disposal
The smoke rings rise and float away
‘Til Someone sees them undulating
And I, in secret, *******
Into an old bible which I’ve renovated
Now it’s livable
A real great place to raise your kids up, as they say
I’ve added levels
Torn down all the walls
The living room’s the dining room’s the bedroom
As it were.
And I have to shove it ‘tween the dumpster and a rat
Who’ll never talk because he’s one of me
Though unlike me…
Forced out by higher powers than himself
At least…
Assumed powers.
Though as we know, dominion over Earth’s a fool’s game
That real estate investment you made’ll
Swallow you up before
Somebody else could lay more…
Justifiable claim.
I say this to be a comfort.
Though there may be none left for you.
And Someone follows blindly
Watching smoke rings through black sockets
Clawing his way toward
Clawing at my wallpaper.
My spiders run and hide in fear, their tails between their eight robotic legs
Thirty-two red eyes glow through the shadows
Quake with fear
Someone trips and stumbles through
With nylon clasping at his body
Never taking hold
He snaps the lines before the paste can even get a chance to stick
And I on high
Up fire escape, watch down with
Sudden fear for realization of the present
And Someone toddles away
No lasting damage done
I leave it ‘til tomorrow to recover
And shred my secrets into pieces large enough to read
And scatter them into the night.
