As if we are fish―trying to breathe in a sea of fire,While sinking in the sand of a sunless seafloor,Where pixie dust is salt―and flying’s required. Here we pray, to saints in eggs and elephants in the sky,Like wise men drowning in a liquor’s shore,As if we are fish―trying to breathe in a sea of fire. We are day-old infants, with blisters in the eyes―Born on the gravity’s core,Where pixie dust is...
I’ll drown myself in acid, if my hair won’t shine tomorrow.So I need to buy some Farrah Fawcett, to look like Farrah Fawcett.All I need is to use her hairspray for eternal beauty,And even Aphrodite would kill, just to kneel, in front of me! I’ll tear off my face, if can’t have the sharpest jawline, or the most muscular body.But my problem is solved, because on television, Arnold says that he eats...
An infant sleeps so soundly with his father’s loaded pistolHidden underneath his pillow.His father is a priest who never fails to indulgeIn lavish chocolates paired with imported civet coffeeAnd bottles of Johnnie Walker whiskey with a hint of holy water.He does this during midnightsWhen everyone else is in the depths of sleep.The father’s teeth have golden coatingThat conceals his cavities.And...