Help Yourself!
Examine the lumber yard
squatting in YOUR eyes.
Take your srf books,
and burn them for warmth,
because this is all they are worth.
Do you know the words I share
with the spirit, in the dark hours?
Do YOU presume to know
what the most high condemns,
what is required by Our Father?
Now is the winter of my bitter content, for yet I lack,
and what is necessary is near,
but Not Present.
Your fumbling armloads
of Books, books, books
will not ***** my fire.
What logic could ever convince you
that this could ever be so.
You assume...
Let that sink in.
You assume
you have carte blanche to condemn, and your digital life preserver
is even going to work.
All that will work
is yet to be.
Soon is the spring
of my boundless bliss.
Who I need, will be found.
Until then, help yourself,
and stop ripping off the bandages
I wrap around myself,
to keep me
from grabbing a cheap date,
when what I have coming is a mate.
He makes concessions
where we are weak.
And demands
where we are strong.
A fire that might spread beyond
and devour the grasslands,
far away from the hearth
where it belongs,
must be tended,
and fed,
inferior wood...
until the proper bundle arrives.
Save your self help books.
They are not the fuel
that this fire requires.
I have all the help I need
it dwells inside me,
and it understands
what you are incapable
of comprehending
