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The Butterfly

Love’s above,

& sorrow’s below.

How do I know?

I let my skin show

Blistered,

sunburnt,

split-lipped

& bare;

Diseased sleaze clinging like spit on every hair.

Addicted. The drone bee evicted from the hive.

Into homelessness I dived, the convicted

W/ no cross to carry, no bones to burry,

Headlong for the cemetery: crater-faced

& ill-fated as an earthbound asteroid.

(Though, when e’ery bridge to friend,

Family, foe’s destroyed,

My deathly impact shan’t be so severe…)

The future is uncertain,

& the end is always near

For this drunken acrobat on the Edge in a sway,

Lurching, looking upon the cheap bliss I piss away;

Unapologetic yet at all the daemons I’ve dredged.

“Silence the Serpent’s hiss!” avers my good conscious.

“Repent! Repent!” No… No… Not yet, good conscious.

I’m still discontent w/ all Life’s rotten pomegranates

I taste dumpster-diving into the menage a trois

of rebellious boredom and intellectual waste.

The dharma bum, fluttering afar from my terrible

& starved cocoon t’bask amok amid the amnesia of sun and moon.

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