gasping for breath once again with hand to mouth and foresight to the wind … a little girl with the topless head and a tongue too fast for its own monstrous intent … i think all i do in this hush of lonely pretense is wish for selfless connection, selfless freedom, but it is a wish all the same and a dance that has been practiced for centuries, lethal in application for its own idealisms, like the sharpening dagger of every well-intentioned revolution … blood is everywhere, on my hands, in my clothes, trickles in my 70% water build-up, make-up body, its stench rips through the cloudy industrial skyscape … the horizon line is stained pink and blue with the spray … my genes they spread it so selfishly, my memes they speak it so righteously …

i still cannot help but think it is beautiful, this decay, this disease, it is so heart-wrenching beautiful, and i don’t know why … of all self-loathing reactions that only amount to denials, self-comforts (we’re all so mighty good at feigning by now), i think the one that causes the most mind hall mazes is my crying eyes at seeing beauty everywhere, at not being able to raise my hand to it, not so much that i cannot or will not, but that there is something that echoes through these inner canyons, these branching mansions that cry to me, “let it be.” and i cannot, will not look away. i want to see it all go down … destruction so close to creation, these manmade structures that replace trees, these concrete roads that spread like rivers … it is all imitation, amateur man, everything … nature will not be denied forever … this oxygen depletion, this host dying, cancer swelling, cutting away the epidermic layers, stick it up the hole in your trite society …

i still cannot deny the predator within … i cannot dissuade its necessity, i cannot swoon to its aggression, just as i cannot leave it to freewill to hunt whatever vulnerability it smells … bar the doors to the lions curling roars and ignore the strange temptation to let it roam free, even knowing the destruction it will bleed because it will find you, eventually … like running to thwart death, like running to thwart life, we are so full of bi-polarity … antipodes of the earth, when really as universal law will dictate, as inherent, impartial symmetry will deny, there is no right and left up or down, no minutes no hours no seconds, you created this godhead, this abstraction for order, you have to deal with it now … “god kills indiscrimately and so shall we …” and this mother earth we stick our cocks into? “the servant is only a master in disguise.”

this idealistic cloth piercing sunlight will warm my skin, i’m sure, but the cold creeps, the stains can only be bleached so many times before its threads begin to dismember … years of sewing skin has taught me everything, and i mean everything, can be mended with efficient and purposeful needlework and delicate fingers … when i create them with my gesticulating hands as i speak, as i work the clay, the steel, the textile, the stone, as i wave away a world that is so much a part of me to my own chagrine … irony drench my soul to dye me another color today, darling, darling, oh my darling danny boy … the bullhorn pipes, the war drums are calling … cliche my everything to make me tell you it means nothing and it is beautiful that way, it’s freedom in realization … it’s the only thing that matters to me in this whole conflicting world …