please!
i want to grasp it
between my fingers without nails
(i bite them off in my neurosis)
and dig my dull digits into it!
please! the truth -- what color is its blood?
i want to hatefuck socrates while
he moans about the mixolydian mode
being drunken and sad.
we tried, that day, to find it
but looking up at the stars
is just a fancy way of looking down,
into our mineral navels
into our vegetable innards!
it's pitiful how much we want the truth
