Before the Last Volcano Spits Us Out

 
There's no emotion involved
in taking people apart,
just instinct, an unknown pressure
and a human eye
to skin all that wavers before it.

Been skinning people
since I first saw bones protrude
from spines of almost innocent children.

It's different when death gets on your hands,
soaks through your weak conscience
that has been pulped
by every hallowed mutt
that walked with enough flamboyance
for you to take notice.

We've become ingested by intelligence
and its unrelenting hunger:
it's when your heart beats
that couple of times more than usual
and your brain pisses
down your spine, and you think:
this is love,
this is true fucking hatred.

We are not monogamous creatures
or herd or pack animals.
We get attached to people because
they are everywhere
and we like having us around.

Men start growing this caged look behind their eyes
shortly after puberty opens its savage legs.
Women all start looking the same
with soft and hard dicks in their mouths
and the poor fucking kids are doomed
right from the beginning,
as were the many billions before them.

Love, hatred, jealousy, sodomy,
all products of an over-developed brain
and the primal instinct to procreate.

We are a swarm of locusts
in a very old, small town
and there's a banjo player who's been watching
since long before forever playing the same chord
with two notes,
these notes are in harmony:
creation, extinction
and we're all dancing to it
whether you are aware or not.