Word

 
I am going to say  
every word we are told
we shouldn't,
scream incognito
from a bathtub
in Rembrandt Square,
paint a bathtub
in Rembrandt Square,  
fuck Rembrandt,
fly home
to a dingy floorbed room,
beyond which
no one knows anyone's name,
or no one cares to.  
I'm going to write aether
on everything
and shadow
and echo

and
 
   and
 
      and  
 
until everyone fucking hates me,
as everyone should hate me -  
until it's tattooed between my eyes,
until it's written on the tongue.  
I'm going to use commas  
and full stops as spacing
I'm going.to.write,only.riddles.  
going to dissolve from a congregation
so beloved, so believing
we may be something insignificant  
in the insignificant nowhere,  
to an insignificant someone.  
I'll weep for days,
as if crying is fatal,  
dehydration a demise,
continue to drink water,  
try to rewind time,  
to go back to the start,
to play it over,
fall head over,  
fall for it again,
fall until everything crumbles
to an infinite dust
and I'm left wandering,
more curt than before.