When people say “it’s ok to be different”
what they mean is “you have to be different”
in the ways they want you to be different
which are pretty similar to everyone else.

Just because you’re oblivious to something
doesn’t mean you’re above it.

Birds chirping                wind blowing
doors swing open                   floodgates of chaos
noise                  people                          beeh­ive buzzing
unease               uncertainty                                           unable
customers noisy as dishes clanging                                       in the back
focus                  obscured                             ­                  insecurity
offensive presence                                 apologetic demeanor
forgive me brother                  for I have sinned
optical trajectory                     floor
please                          thank you
hands                 pockets
forgive me.

I just thought you should know
it doesn’t matter if you stay or go
we live in a grave of souls
as slaves in tow
behind time and weather
like free floating feathers
slowly turning into leather
until we can float no more
like a boat with no shore
submerged underwater
with no dirge for the slaughter
we’re just purged to the bottom
as we swerve down this slalom
to the base of our column
where we find the mystery of death
before figuring out life
the whole time we’re in debt
until we see the light.

Transcendence is a lie
you’re not above it until you’re there.

Hedonism is a lie
once the costs start to add up.

Altruism is a lie
when living for others is living for the self.

There’s nowhere to turn
once it’s your turn.

Is there any way to save us from life
other than death?

Yin/yang
order/chaos
discipline/freedom
cops/robbers
inescapable paths are familiar routes
subjectivity shrouds relation
reciprocation obfuscated by morality
relativism is an ocean the lost can drown in
but those who are properly equipped can see below the surface
until industrious capitalist tycoons spill oil
then it's a matter of faith swimming through blackened waters
oily ripples turn into waves
continuously crashing into itself
the sludge mixes into a consistent composition
the ocean gets a little darker.

Bitten by rejection, I became a wereman
I'm a dog by day, beaten if I don't fetch
but at night I become a man, and enter the world of men
I become a human, or at least a humanoid
I'm likened to a lycan, yet I stand on my own two paws
searching for a fairy's tail to hammer in my coffin's nails
the sphincter of the sphinx is the ***** of my cat
my clothes tear off as my body starts changing
howling at the moon as my elongated limbs bloom
salivating over the feast of flesh, hackles raised
shackled slave of the bite, I tried to stave off the night
with a witch's brew but my twitches grew
at the sight of a full moon reflecting off the eyes of a lamb
reminding me I'm a man who needs to eat
or maybe I'm just a dog in heat.