Laughter Wound ‘round me, string holiday lights,
Like boleadoras it ties me up tight
Trapped and enraptured
By you and your ape act, wiggling fingers,

I can walk across campus
And nobody smiles
Maybe they’re lonely?
Maybe they’re tired?

My dad gets gout-
Bet I get it too
Because I love meat and grain based booze
And to stroll all day til my toes are sore
Then to fuck and eat and drink some more

Adipose monster suit
Gaiman’s other father
Growing quiet right into my flesh
Trying to bubble over
Sinks it’s tiny little claws in

In contrary, your piety
Makes love to minds
through songs like Seraphim
Your clarity of artistry
Surpasses as amalgam
God and Sin.

We are immortal
But will fade so young
Matter cannot die, still,
We are ash on the tongue
Of the great, black sky
Where all matter fell, hence,
Where all matter goes nigh
Blind sparks flash red…

What was once crisp, great rustling pile,
All bounce and crunch and childish wiles
Now mildew-wet, darkened, deflated
Jump in, slick, and twist my ankles

Your advice is “don’t be clever”?
Well, that’s all I can be.
“Just state your intent clearly”
Lines molten inside me.
Too quick to crystallize, they harden

What frozen chill grows in this silence
Cuts through, cut-throat, tinged with violence
Here’s to the ice-edged knife!
My tongue stuck
To piteous idol of nihilismus