i am
a
squid.
an
ink black
cloud.
then
poof,
gone.

i have the heart of an invertebrate and the soul of a mad franciscan friar wailing away in a fibonacci sequence of descending chaos compressed into a bullet shot point blank at the tenuous fabric of creation a despot dreaming of draining the font dry and leaving nothing but scars anthropologists will blame on an extraterrestrial catastrophic event as i slice myself into thin vivisections with no anesthesia just the sound of crickets screaming to be fucked in the vacancy where wonder once lived

what is
a goddamned
poet?
an
ink black
cloud.
then
poof,
gone.

i had better control when i was not a clustered jumble of insecurities freefalling a satellite entering the atmosphere and the best parts of me break off and flare briefly exposing what could have been had i the intestinal fortitude to hold on a little while longer in the buffeting solar wind threading througj the hole in the ozone layer on a perfect trajectory to maintain full irradiated penetration like prom night as chernobyl melted downdowndown

a
fucking
squid.
an
ink black
cloud.
just another
casual
casualty.