Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Cyanide Cappuccino

Alarm of nausea
Sunrise of moonrock
The true artist
rejects the title
tosses it
to the wasps
along with
their social life
and any form of
stability
Shake like sickness
Speak like constriction
The bandwagon hijackers
sip wine
to extinguish their mid life crisis
while we
set the world on fire
through eloquent spite
They'll never know our names
spelled out in ash
on their front lawns
And they'll never know
the pure romance
between a creator
and the gutter

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