..,

Recently, I have been trying to fade away the complex poetry I am used to (using words to conveniently tell the reader what is going on), and try to go back to the simple, complex, utterly confusing poems I started with. This is one of the first ones.





"Infantile Disruption"

Slip the bag over our heads,
We don't need mouths to breath,
Hairs are pulled from their roots,
Pine sap is stuck to my teeth.

Chainsaw laughter, political melodies
Hollowed and profounded in the mind of me.
Fuck to golden gates of godly love,
I wouldn't even let me in.

My children won't stop crying,
Lurking in their minds, it's plain,
they want to kill, and they will, too,
If I don't kill them before they get to you.

LoveFuckingHas