I Just Can't Explain This Shit at All

I will sacrifice myself upon a train of bed bombs,
lie flat
while each tick transforms the formation of my heartbeats
to the pulsating of countdowns. Thinking backwards,
I know this all too well
and most times
I erupt from fear

as if my flesh were an alarm clock -
smelling of chemical concoctions and conditions
cocked like gun shots, shower sprayed explosion.
My body's the exposition of embarrassment
centered positioned off the exquisite,
unbelonging to the collection of these marble
sculptures, and sandstoned statues.

Each stare is reminiscent of Medusa;
and then I kill,
without hesitation-
each neck sliced definitely, sculpted perfectly
in the name of justice
by the waist-side

I do not care for justice.
As it is born, I will die.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010