What god puts you through, in your dreams, testing limits like a mad scientist, on the grand quest to discover, what truly fills a cup, if only we knew ourselves like god knew us, how he interprets our heart beats, to what he attaches strings, does he know you can sing, the immortals that live under your skin, does he know them by name, each child of the sun and moon, can he trace your ancestry through the stars, but no, so many days are casual, your success in this world is dependent on how well you’re able to navigate people and organizations, so much is dependent on how you’re able to satisfy a customer, on how well you suck dick, you look up, your manager smiles, spreads his seed across the mountains and your face, and says, congratulations, you get a passing grade, and the dude who marks each truth, what a nitpicky guy, and the architects who arrange all the connections, from one life to the next, checking whose pussy your dick’s been in, your mom, your daughter, the dude who checks the length of your eternal life to see whether you’ve ever fucked the cat in the multiverse, what was I saying, the things that inspire a poet to write, and the universe that’s always making love, your parents are so gross, why, what’s up with that, and for any random thing I write, why does it rhyme…

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