Love gadgets fill the shelves,
Of the Motel lobby.
The dead twin brother
Serves prostitutes toast.
Maybe we can redeem ourselves,
Maybe we could reinvent heaven.
Heinrich Himmler, a cracked coffee cup,
Snow, stained yellow with piss, red with blood, brown with coffee.
This was the 20th century.
Madness is a form of insight, logic a darkening crippler.
No body truly loves reason,
No body truly appreciates disorder.
My intestines are full of worms.
My brain squirms like a snake in a frypan.
My meals taste like vomit,
My breath smells of decay.