Three pages, triploblastic
an insult to my own intelligence.
"Marginal fail",
Fuck it, i can't even screw up right!
The E grins.
Myself in my own hands
which close as anger incarnate.
Releasing the crumpled rotten fruit
to drop kick into the corner,
but still clawing the issue.
Nails clinging to my plams.
Crucify myself on an uright of
downright stupidity
and a crossbeam of shame.
And I am a scarecrow, in a fallow field
making light conversaton with birds.