Karma Lathe
Thrusting a screw driver
through the heart of bliss,
Dropping out slowly
is harder than you think—
A wish in the well
of poison and piss
To sour the notes
of the song we sing.
I blame your eyes for the whole damn thing.
Repetition is the mother of all skill—
or total insanity.
I’ll worship this crisis
till your whole soul is mad at me.
“Oh god, the tragedy!”
Crack the bones of catastrophe—
Are you happy that your kingdom
is now crumbling, your majesty?
The dust will never settle;
your little world lost its gravity.
And the will you once vaunted
is now a gaping black cavity.
Get out the hammer and finish the job.
Your backstairs journey through my heart was bold—
Sucking out more than your mouth could hold.
Truth be gone—
Truth be told—
The fruits of your labor....
Full of maggots and mold.
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