and then, much as the self-conjured disappearance,
he faded back into the strobe,
the injured color wheel of the world.
we gasped our displeasure, and
we shook hands and then washed them,
dripping with our smug belonging, our
inner flames of truths and lights.
we tore out the floorboards, we shook down the
world, and we
did not do anything for a long time.
look, i drip blood, but
i don’t die until i say it’s time because
my blood is fucking endless, it’s a river of red shit
climbing all around. we are all in that river together, the
sewer of life motherfuckers. the sewer of us.
and so he spun around, he spun and bled,
smiling and dancing, skipping beats and raining down on
all the desperately righteous, all the uptrodden, and yes,
we tried to kill him, but he became invincible in his outcastness, his
endless fucking and breathing, his
blood, branching out, onto all our skins,
we all caught something that night, and
we still are not sure what it is. was.
he’s fading again. in and out and back in, then
halfway, coming and leaving, leaving and halfway. we
are halfway, and lost,
very fucking lost, a