Ai?

I kiss the moon,

And he says, “Stop kissing me you fucking cock,

I’m just a rock”.

 

So I say, “heh”.

“I don’t care what the frag you are

a star? A white walled tire? The negative of a black hole?

Is it required? Do you need a soul?”

 

“Pretend!” he screams, “That’s what it is!”

“Faking, fanciful, farce filled bliss!”

 

So I say, “heh”.

“Why is it that you and everyone else seem so mad, or is it sad, that I’ve made my choice between metaphor and simile, do you look like you’re moist, or are you wet and slippery?”

 

So he says, with curiosity darkening his eyes,

“So what is it that you have chosen, living in duality or shaping your lies?”

“Neither!” scream I,

“I live in trinity, what is, what might, and what I choose to see!”

 

“Then you must close your eyes to pain and nasty things.”

 

“Nay, nay, we all say nay! My eyes are always open to what is everything, what might be everything, and what I choose to be everything!”

 

and he says,

“If a loved one dies what do you see?”

Chuckling his cheese with silly mockery.

 

“That he is dead, that he might not be, and that I am not. Silly?”

 

“But with which do you agree?”

 

“The sum you bum.

I know you to be a rock

Made of dust and stone,

In the space, and its icy lock,

You might be many things,

Which I cannot imagine,

And the sight of you brings,

Confusion to my tangents.

I believe you to be,

A big white glob of hope,

Floating among the eve, and tied to me by

An invisible rope.”

Or so I says.

 

And so he says,

“Little earthling, whatever troubles your mind,

I cannot imagine it,

So I’m just going to ‘float’ around,

Thanking whomever it may be,

That I am inanimate.”

 

 

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