Author Information
Midline
Once again, I have crept back to the deep, shallow
valley of where your PH.D would call the gray matter of
the brain:
A very short, crooked midline between factual reality and surreal appeal
Here, are the minor quakes of cells and the beginnings of
skitzo journalism
High pitched frequencies and a quick fix of nicotine
I will tell you exactly what I am.
I am a series of convulsions. Pulsing. Pulsing.
I am in touch with the lunar madness, thrusting my
surviorlism into the moon's grasp and asking,
what will happen next?
Where are all the questions? Have they been eaten by
the ideas of God and higher power this and that... your
so called religious quests that might enlighten your soul if
you weren't so narrow-minded and convinced to agree with the
first thing you are told
Go ahead and ask again where my heart is
I found it sapped to a tree in my front yard
I didn't feel the need to bring it in and unpack it neatly in
a drawer
Because I don't think I want to ever use the god damned thing again
I'd rather it be rained and pissed on by the domesticated dogs then placed in another beings hands who just can't help themselves of the want to rip it apart because they have not even the slightest clue of who they are.
See, if you dont dress yourself with anything breakable, then
it doesnt really matter how hard you fall
