Schizophrenic Poetry

A stroll in the park — the old Gods are with me. Jupiter beams lightning out his mouth while Aries swings his dick in a mobius strip. A winding and interweaving path — I stand on the long, rigid, and protruding nails of a forlorn homeless woman.

She inches ever closer until the proximity of her nose slightly grazes my soft skin. A nausea precipitated by the snowflakes emanating and descending onto me from her head. An episode of regurgitation allows me to evacuate myself. Vomiting pathways — the possibilities of a teleportation device.

Endless teleportation from one point to another — crisscrossing lines of the schizophrenic's variety. Squiggles and scribbles — my thoughts like the drawings of a melted pen fused to the hands of a hyper infant. She once brought me peace, now I stalk the world ceaselessly yearning for a piece, or morsel. Grinding gigawatts — I have already expended too much glucose incessantly wasting kilowatts of electricity.

Her words must be removed from my colon. A nosocomial infection resulting in a toxic mega inflammation of my ass. The doctor orders a colectomy. A 5-month episode of a rapid expulsion of bullshit has come to an end.

The doctor shoots the shit — a stroll and a brisk walk. I am no longer watching the multiple reels that come across my feed. They are watching me. Shivering and trembling — they know what I want to see. I glow bright as Sho’nuff takes the best of me. Jupiter or Zeus or whatever sky daddy has blessed me with a bolt of lightning spewing out their mouth.

Scales of charred skin like exhausted charcoal blow out my ears. Twerking at my own funeral procession, I am spent. Can we be friends instead? I just need a little space. Hot and cold interactions while you use me as an experience. I’ll take my final bow, scum sucka — not even Bruce LeeRoy could have caught this bullet.

Product of the projects. Local socio-political urban philosophy.