The Procured

1000 lives for a change

I’ll keep it as a secret

To return you for a tete-a-tete.


Slides through solicitation.

Carbonated souls!

Detached from the source

Like a cos-played holocaust

Of indignity covered-up

With mutations

Subvert the discourse

At whatever the cost.

Ha ha ha!

Humming with the sounds:

Bark, bark!

Fuck! It’s getting cold,

Yet winter ceased to come.

Affirmative of an angel

Playing the incubus;

A slippery penetration to my sleep

No sanity confirmed to keep.

Aerosols, hmm, yes!

Oh, no. Motorcars!

Contemplating on the cause

Yet clock’s shrieking

Gets my body shrinking.

I’ll exchange 1000 lives

With a flip of a coin

And fearing the blotted lines.

Come out, come out!

A water-ful of barren drops

Oh, no! Not yet.

Keep out the butterflies.

“Kümmere dich

Um ungelegte Eier nicht”

Sagte der Seersorgel.

Aber hat er verpasst

Die Vögel,

dass ich geweint habe


Losing the reserved sense

Losing approximated time.

Wake up, wake up!

The Saint so intense.