The fool

The fool has made his final stand, 

Or at least, that’s what he claims, final stand.

And he’s kind of a liar, you know?

Totemized & labotemized:

Castrated & gagged,

He vows no more foolish speech will pass his parched & pissed lips.

Yet here he is, speaking his “and another thing … ”
It’s like a dogma inside his tiny, worthless mind.

You know? 

A hallucinatory difference & repetition trip.

“Don’t undercut me. How dare you undercut me?” He was told.

And so singing, singing and singing

His songs of folly and damage,

Such ruinous, selfish panic.
Love, you say, you little asshole?

Care, you say, you lying shit.

Poetry, you presume, you selfish egotistical cunt!
And so the fool slinks off, into the imbecilility of his stuporous cubicle,

Back to the gutter from which he crawled,

And vows never to kill again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s