Eyes gazing humanity's chopped up
pork. Where do the streets lift?
Can't we all just smoke dandelions as we do dreams?

Cynics call me names sometimes.
Not the sanest of them all. Yes.
Most insanest at best.

My vocabulary can't contain them all.
Self-centered lizards with pesky demeanors.
Read my lips: fog is less air than

S W A T my hair for all I care.
The lot has taken my tongue back.
Can't preach to the deaf.

Logic was a word.
Part of nanny's decoration.
Archaic.

If it were still one, how would you pronounce it?
If only.
Giggles.

Fossils are real; they haven't always been around though.
So weren't you.

Do you even listen to yourself?
Should I be worried?
Who am I if not you?
That would be me.