On Separation

it's nothing new to me

but each time

it feels like shit

it's as if the heavens have opened up

like they were supposed to

and dark words

from the angry gods are pouring out

like acid rain

on me

melting

my face,

my skin,

my flesh,

my guts. 

and now, after this long long trainride

jostling with sweaty people in rags

who look like poverty is supposed to
look like,

i'm here

and she

is

there.

you, intellectuals,

poets, students, jobbers, broads

wannabe politicians,

shitters - i'm talking to you now.

do you even fucking care?

well, back to the arms of Bacchus then.

the skies are rotting

the sharks are watching me

the tigers are dead

and there's no one else. 

i spit at the skies 

as i scratch my back

and smile.

i cower before the sharks

i weep for the tigers

and i am indifferent to your indifference now.

to hell with the rest, then!