Grade of crowns. Stand up everyone. Show yourselve to the surface of the God.
Now climb down the courage-testing north pole. I know you’ve seen it yourselves
This time, well this time, the all bets are off approach is practically diving into us
Down into the chasm of below. It hurts to write this and the mind of Ariachne die
Splitting open the blood in sides the blood in sides of you, past corners
Of your psychological bondage into the tornado of nose jobs, ear-flattening magnets
Bugs that eat the pores off your woozily blackening one cheek. The transvestive
Creditment of time, minted in the pulpy mind of Star Coaches.
As love was a lightbulb in God’s mouth. Breaks the teeth and everything falls out.
She’s cheating on you. Oh my god I can’t believe how many people were cheating
On everyone. It’s on everyone. The responsibility is real – realer than Global Warming.
The warning of a dark dog in the piercing Jeep sunlight, the hot seatbelt of summer
You gave me portals, thick oceans, the caramel of another try redemptive life
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