narcissus- dowser of reflection- marry you? marry
deep-dark-sad-lonely me. the best i can do
is be hurt knowing
my life depends on the opinions of others- the new
science. out with the old- it went
on a diet and died.
i say "my life", i mean my well-being- which is
what i am nothing without.
that means i am nothing, nothing
without my neurochemical
fucking up. the dowser
for meaning in dreams that fail never
what do i learn from you
besides everything about the life i'm not
my mouth is being a cave blindly
dripping darkness and
other unfashionable things. kiss it.
i remind you of something-
plasma anomaly, unforgivably
straggling, extra chromosome, floating
the learned way. the microscope yields;
for i give a shit.
growing not growing
opposition- that which screws
with the process of
decomposition. the soul of violence
is a high-pitched helium voice.
this constitutes the anima- which is
the outward gender
which is the very big dick of violence.
this dick is so big, that further growth
is not permitted.
MY SOUL IS TRYING TO KILL ME IS WHY.
i'm getting it to remain
i'm only interested in the thrill of things
and that which is a thrill
take the ground, dump it
off the face of the earth. if the good mother
is all that is nature, we can
separate ourselves. let us reject our cells.