The Godhead

I see so constantly the mother I wish not to be a trainwreck citing meat too lean malnourished and mis-wed by seventeen I am the feet that swell and sore under plum-bruised body and broken back an assembly line of plastic doors for plastic cars on plastic tracks and I breathe the bright ladylike sea; drown in her Riesling spindrift air for I am dying words of ennui so trite and unaware an impromptu speech to Father - I've planned for seven years the words I thought would safely breach my stiff and stilted fears and name this ugly rabbit's foot painted black by years of soot I am the God of captious rancor the necrotic rot you've been searching for