My failure to focus
is driving me mad! Invisible
particles form a constellation
about my head. These stick to
bushes and trees like latex and
leave me with less than ever.
You elemental devils, please, dash
my blubbery and mastic hopes.
Prove the Gods can exist
agog and away. Rocks can smash
brains to dollops but I
would place my soul when
it rushes out with a
grand stink into you, honey-goddess.
You with all your frantic
trembling, trying to attach something
to make sense of sticky,
sickly trees in fog, and
great lycanthrope goats, and my
lissome pelting and meandering.
I'm driving you mad and away.
Good-bye.