12-23-2017, 08:19 AM
Nostomania (edited)
They were awaiting the roads
that would take them home;
all standing like planted trees
with wind blowing through their bones.
Human beings, ah? what a disaster,
what a travesty!
Man, the only animal that rots before he’s dead,
(his own cannibal and his own mother)
gives birth to himself and then eats himself.
They stood, up to their ankles in mud.
Every one a philosopher, an artist, a poet.
Each one more definite than the last.
Each one more certain and profound.
Each one swaying, broken, little verbivore
You see, these ones got the smarts, Ma.
pullulating like rats
fucking in overcomplicated nests of thinking
These boys sure are sharp, Ma.
catching ideas,
eaten by spider-men,
and regurgitating them to fortify the walls.
Some of them moved around—
surbaters! Leaving their friends left for dead.
These ones didn’t last long in the wilderness.
Blindly looking for somewhere to plant their feet (or head).
Some looked into the mud and found thinking there—
found something human about it all.
There is no humanity,
not down there, not up here.
And some were you!
A cunt langsuir sucking the marrow from the nothing
of our newborn’s animal.
They were awaiting the roads
that would take them home;
all standing like planted trees
with wind blowing through their bones.
Human beings, ah? what a disaster,
what a travesty!
Man, the only animal that rots before he’s dead,
(his own cannibal and his own mother)
gives birth to himself and then eats himself.
They stood, up to their ankles in mud.
Every one a philosopher, an artist, a poet.
Each one more definite than the last.
Each one more certain and profound.
Each one swaying, broken, little verbivore
You see, these ones got the smarts, Ma.
pullulating like rats
fucking in overcomplicated nests of thinking
These boys sure are sharp, Ma.
catching ideas,
eaten by spider-men,
and regurgitating them to fortify the walls.
Some of them moved around—
surbaters! Leaving their friends left for dead.
These ones didn’t last long in the wilderness.
Blindly looking for somewhere to plant their feet (or head).
Some looked into the mud and found thinking there—
found something human about it all.
There is no humanity,
not down there, not up here.
And some were you!
A cunt langsuir sucking the marrow from the nothing
of our newborn’s animal.