i'm taping these words
on the back of my finger;
i'll wear them like a bandage,
and superglue them to brick walls
vandalized with spraypaint tattoos.
i'm stapling my ears behind my head
and cracking every bone in my body
at least seven times not stopping
until graffiti pours out my skin
in hemophilic hues vivid colors,
which are nothing more than light.
i'm writing with the arm of a lunatic;
i'm loving with the heart of a savage.
i'm deauthorizing the public opinion,
and auctioning my tongue off on ebay.
i'm but a crescent moon on a zit of the world's ass
i'm seeing through other people's eyes,
lying with other people's rotting teeth,
screaming with other people's lungs,
and swimming in the populace's tears.
i'm breathing through
other people's noses,
inhaling their parables
and sneezing out their poetry
in the form of journal entries
in the form of wannabe prose
in the form of futile verses.
i'm fucking a demographic of dictionaries
and conceiving mutated verse-children
that will hate me for forcing them into
a society where poems are nothing
more than verses, which are nothing
more than sentences, which are nothing
more than words, which are nothing
more than letters, which are nothing
more than a few strokes of a wrist
tagged with scars.