Idiot Flesh Motherfucker
Hillside building, falling grass. Forest filling, velvet
pass. Steplike structure, view commanding. Flatland
feeding, homeland breeding. Can we see the years fast
ticking, bringing us what will be past? Should I not say
of my own land, “I will never build a house”? Human
rabbits feeding, breeding, leading, needing normal lives.
Bringing, banging, clanging, breathing smoke and soot,
THE MAN ARRIVES. Some are thinkers with ideals. Some are
thinkers with ideals. Some are running around waving
their arms in the air with no idea what they are trying
to accomplish here. Electric growing, telecom going
deeper and deeper into space. One day coming, all have
plumbing. Save us from our frantic pace. Fearful feeling
not withstanding. Hillside dream I not abandon. Still I
stir this troubled question. Shall I wear my last clean
sox? Shall I put them in a box? Should I wear them out?
Should I have another stout? When I think I’m only
spinning wheels in hopes of slowly pinning down in mind a
firm conclusion, how the f..ck to live my life…
MOTHERFUCKER
