deepundergroundpoetry.com
eternity
feels like a pack
of wild hyenas
pissing in my eyes
stomach bloated
as if it's filled with
mutant yeast
tongue covered
with razor blade
fur
bones turn to
shards of
broken
ice
while the intestines
plot a sneak
attack,
cheeky
bastards
the devil sits across
from me telling
dirty jokes about
some donkey with
a tiny pecker trying
to have sex with the
vagina of the universe
I take a sip of my
coffee and drag
of my smoke
and say, "I get
the punchline...
the irony, the
absurdity...
i just don't think
it's all that funny."
but
hell
seldom
is
and in the background,
The Cantos by Pound
is read out loud
over
and
over
and
over
and...
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