SMELL THE FLOWERS OF EVIL

TO wake up in a hole that seems
to move when i try to climb away
like macular degenerative twit
i throw away the hole :
whole thing and strut away

it’s all part of my fantasy

loving how a hole can get
a hold of life then you
punch it where it counts

i look up toward dreaming skies
smell the flowers of evil
oh Baudelaire!

And Sunny’s a fairly American name
Olaf a fairly Scandinavian one
and i see all the people so shoe the
children and feed all the hungry

and too, a part of me humanitarian

we devise a life-setting for our
experiences that seem ambiguous
and Lethargarians are so cute
unless they get off their feet

don’t you laugh, think, but sleep!

so much like the world’s politicians!

:: 09-11-2015 ::