(2013)
yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing
they really do know how to shove something up your ass like
the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring
stupid met crazy decided to have a baby or two... what else you gonna do?
so, i’m in this spiritual war. maybe you aren’t, but i am. many great losses
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
every story, especially those promising finally to grant the square hat with tassels, is a load of shit. the god which
no means no. no response means no. (everyone knows maybe means nothing
finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center
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