Bottle of sperm on my desk with the rest of my soul's contents
fish oil supplements and a pack of cigarettes on my arm-rest
my interests have shrunk into fiending off distress
The depressed set of topics that I'm talking about consist
of the times that I went from abreast all the best and tumbled
so quick that I was blinded by my descent
and made indecent attempts to reason my actions to those
asking questions, passing judgments like fractions, dividing my
intent and devising new concepts to absolve my mis-steps
to insist on fairness, correctness, and access
to all the secretive bits of my head's rusted thought pits
You thought all was well when the sunshine was extent
and beating broad rays of orange scream on your eyelids
Only to find the night was just as passionate and reminiscent
of the moments you couldn't reason to prolong this
foolish mockery of glib jokes and blitheness
on life, love, and strife - prattle on till the sun hits
When the fields top in crisp slits of rural radiance
and smell redolent of fresh death, I cough a
hail mary to the night and collapse under the branch
where my will is etched
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