May 22, 2011
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I am vice president of mustard gas and roses,
of volanoes, of dawn and dew.
That happiness is mine.
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
Busy, busy, busy.
Nice, nice, very nice –
Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.
It was an exciting thing for me,
taking away his dignity in the name of love.
With the help of fear and echoes and winter silences,
I had a voice like a big bronze gong.
If the accident will,
now I will destroy the whole world.
Arbitrary blackness gallops in.
So it goes.

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