as i scuplt the
blue smoke of my ciggerate,
and paint an impression of life so surreal,
to this electric psychedelic drug looming.
after every latex
passion never freed
appears absurd to my deep pain.
and i scream and demand the dead break me out.
only the
neonazi government hears my plea.
while black angels strum angry raw music to my suffering.
and i feel so empty.