surf no longer the swell of daemons

i asked a man if he could leave his culture, he said why the hell should i?

i wondered for him if he knew who he was, down there deeper than culture’s dye.

I asked a girl if she would let go her rant, and join peaceful places with her enemy

she said if you knew who i was you would know that request was no friend to me

I asked the president if he would confess his sin, say sorry, and ask more for help

he looked at me, like a three-stingered bee, and told me to go eat kelp

so i sat me down, and i watched the crowds, so loud and so timid, with heads spinning

and i wondered with heaven, shook also with hell, and wondered what earth’s humans were winning

they seemed all in a race, to outdo one another, and racing as well to prove holy

but they had no idea what holiness was, for they were stained with Hell’s Angel so fully.