Words, it’s just words, it’s just herds of them spurting out
From the mouth a thousand ways to dance fractals around the crux
Mandalas like piranhas, in your face are bitten craters
& you sustain each tooth, each root, forsooth: ill will chills the course
I want to find my Ram Dass smile, my own interconnected isle
But I make no moves, I feel trapped, inert & doomed
My tower isn’t ivory, but it’s built on self-connivery
My heart’s got the horn, tusks protrude from my skull
I’ll fantasise of Friday’s eyes, when I tried on freedom for disguise
But models are made & can be coloured in or greyed
I will display the burn I gained from a blast of boiling water vapour
I’ll ask if she wants to kiss it or if she may do later
Time & size are relative, so this madness might be meagre
I know I’ve so much left to give, but my sadness is the leader
The universe an atom, the cosmos is a stave
Bunnies dart & binky as they bound across the glade
& one day are wounded, hear them drowning in the waves
Yes the mother mourns it…revolution…retrograde
What’s that boiling in the pot? A gone-off mot that’s lost the plot
If it didn’t hurt so burning hot then maybe I would scoff
Tbh I’d rather see the part of it that baby’s got
& honey glaze it, lay to waste its place & watch it rot
Or at least taste my Arbok, watch it Glare & Gunk Shot
Relief is the word…please desist this absurdity
Insidious worms dig in & wriggle, it makes my brain tickle
Fickle fornications leave luscious labia alone & latent
Insert hurts like plots but the text is purely narrative
To neglect inherited balances you’ll have to whack rats & hack at it
Midnight oil evaporated under moons from months ago
At the point of bisection you’ll stunt your growth or shun the flow
A paradigm of one direction is dictatorship
Icy spines uninclined to take the weight of a Trojan neigh
Precious vertebrae will waste away under the bluntest blade
But it remains sheathed, they walk willingly, almost proud to be cows
To kowtow to the elite, who give purpose to the souls of their feet
& the older the meat, the tougher the skin
It would seem that the stars should be here for me right now
But instead I get the marred, calls of far things remain unheeded
Me to get out of the way of me is needed, terminally
But impermeable me incurs the saboteur twin who’s hurting me
Hollering hypocritical term timetables into open eyes
Vellus hair is fine cables, primal demigods in certain lights
Be kinder to the garden for these weeds will be the wardens
The flowers will be dead & their words will be the dirt