All Existence is Temporary. AKA You’re Going to F***ING Die!


For 12 hours I envisioned the walls of my bedroom
As yellow,
Painless. A cockroach can live 9 days
Without its head. A blind nervous system
Progressing by the grace of capricious endowments.
The gamble of a angel’s donation
Was spilled beer
Decorating white carpet with spontaneous physique.

As it was
Those moments documented.

I had become a stain.
Stunted at the edge of progression.

New for a moment.

Reliving each grunt, guffaw, and growl
Advanced by clean skin.
Water puddled over my nourished feet,
And I thought of how
My blood would turn the water pink.

Make Adam’s ale beautiful for a juncture.
Then freely washed away.

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