Monday, April 28, 2003
Existence is Your Apathy
I convert the undertow
where importance lowers the eyebrow
It is old at the lip
My pores present places
for the dripping of actuality
from feeling the glutenous
which is you
Who can filter the insane hardship
with the gruesome and the fertile?
My blood is renewal
through my tooth
which spits actuality
hard and under the examination
I swear
with the incredulous screams of my head
existence is your apathy
which more and more changes me
whom you call the usurper
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