Schizolectic

This poem originally appeared on amphibi.us.

 

I’m the kind of artist
That howls and curses women’s names
In the middle of the night
Runs around naked
And throws spaghetti on the walls
Between shots of vodka and rum
Pounding fists and overturning tables
I blast porn and Beethoven
Jerk off into the sink
Claiming the mosquitoes are CIA robots
Come to inject poison in my veins
It is through this madness and filth
That the vision takes a hold
It is only in this state
That one may gaze upon the face of God
While copulating with the Devil
This is my art
Dialectic and eternal
The supernova clash of worlds
The battle of flesh and spirit
And I, the artist, am in the middle
Bottle of rum in hand
And boiling more water for spaghetti

 

If you liked this poem, please consider purchasing my first collection of poetry, available here. International orders are accepted!