I just hit the wall.
I am not crying to it. It is filled
with peeping holes. Light strobes
there are none because it is dark
What do you think of me?
I can sing. I chant weird mumbles
that passersby frown at. I howl
like a dog in heat, begging
to be copulated. At times I am quieter
I spit insults and laugh generously
catching my breath. What else? Ah..I shout
like: I AM ASHAMED OF YOU!
WHAT DO YOU KNOW? These are lyrics?
This is a really beautiful career!
Send me the photographers
and I will show them my swear finger.
You dare enter, you dare.
I can smell your mind,
decomposing into a routine sameness:
a foul kind of stagnation.
I am your judge.
I should say it is not lack of language
that you suffer. It is deafness.
Yes, there are these lines that will not
come through, simply break up, can not
hold our minds, or
it is your head now choking with weeds
strangled by assumed perceptions
that you can not truly perceive.
Do not deceive me.
Ignore me if you can. But it is over
I have conquered. And you lie bleeding
at the mercy of verse.