Saturday, May 13, 2017

the nail

if a storm brews in a team cup
do the mountains steep out rain?
butterfly wings and tornados
all reside in shadows

where does the light go
when we switch off the sun
inside the refrigerator
the door shuts the fun

the goblins are partying again
inside the washing machine
silent as mice, double as nice
they dance in their dreams

and here i sit
the king of idiots
with a nail stuck through my foot
did i step on it or hammer it in?

This day is like a fist in the face of everything pious and pure.

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