Rott

i want you to rot like a fox’s body before it drifts off into dreamland at the edge of the pond where the rottweilers from the neighborhood had gone to drink more water before a savage got in their way the angel in you left when you were delivered gently to the ground there was no heaven before you were born so you either came from a drunken hell or your spirituality is only a violent strive for the continuation of your own blood and the damning of others’ you’re going the speed limit on the road to the metal city on the hill fighting off birds that you see are smaller than you because why should they be flying higher than you above the clouds when you’ve already destroyed them? this paradox frightens you no savage should have a better instinct so the beautiful must rot in order for you to seem powerful the beautiful must rot in order for you to reproduce but did you know that you’re already rotting? you’ve killed yourself and your kind now set fire to your home and lie down in the dirt with the worms you were meant to feed the Earth it wasn’t meant to feed you