twitch
The bustling dust dome of a city teases your madness out of remission.
Clinging to cement heavens throwing wreaths of laughter down to the spit soaked humanity below.
Imagining the hole in your flat was a black wardrobe that took you into a neighboring world of filth, sex, and espionage.
Watching with secret hope that a family of four falls off their carefully calibrated motorcycle and that grandma is the one that rolls into the gutter.
Fucking for the sake of hearing your own laughter ring off the sweat soaked balls of the guy down the hall.
And hoping that salt and pepper chinaman two floors down will send you back to the world of celibacy riding a broomstick made of admonitions to clean up your mess.
Sending messages in a bottle made of wires and wanton wants in the hopes that the innocent eyes that drink your platinum locks in the middle of a lecture will suddenly want to suck you down whole.
Filling ashtrays with morphed butts of sad little jokes, so grey that the slightest rub of lipstick could be the sign of the impending kiss of death that finally puts you out of your misery.
Fantasizing about shards of broken chai cups kissed by your blood from a suicidal leap from the arms of the Institution into the lap of Monotony.
Having midnight conversations with the Vitruvian man hanging sentinel in your heart until you finally decide that a kiss from an elf is better than nothing.
Weaving insults with expletives with desires with depression into a quilt of smoke that streams out of your mouth and blankets the children as they sleep in class.
Paper cutting the private parts of your soul with a bit of pleasure reading dropped at your feet by a Byronic Crying Kafka.
This type of madness was the most delicious kind. It dripped and oozed in your mouth with a kind of succulent awareness, until it finally dribbled down your throat to be lost forever in the bowels of a year passed…
