Restroom realisations

I like my urinals foul.

300 generations

my trenches muddy

encounters, however sanguine,

bloody

full moon screeches in despair

drench in horror, many a street

the sorrow

the hunger

So:

Down to backdoorbasics

emergency exit essentials

sleazy alley syntax

offscreen omniscience

..

with

coked up clairvoyance

and

backstage ballsiness

Somehow, comfort

Relativity, in theory

on the lookout

for slightest trace

of human factor

in this barren, barfilled wasted no man's land

a million to one

many prevail

I lean back smiling

I get high

Awe.

Fucked Up Awe.