crowing like a sinner

i coo at the crows

as i

(insane, inane)

touch sky

once more

and i'm laughing

my head off

because i've found

(nothing much)

that i'm happier

this way then

that way

chortling like a bad girl

(the bad girl i've been)

i sneer at the

laughing stock

and laugh at the

humbled crowd

who is so dazed


that they cannot breathe

and then i die

and IT starts laughing

(not at me)

(with me)