lowered decibals in the decaying rituals of corporate cannibal era,
decaying hippy residue that will not get thru to you.
i have one half squinty eye on the bottle
the other on the apocalypse
the other on the grave,
no gods left.
now my concentration has been broken,
thusly goes the play by play.
if only i could write half the poem i hope to write...
go fuck yrself,