I’m an acquired taste.
Doomed to a life as a sour key,
Beloved –
Until such sour tartness,
Rubs your mouth raw.
Then discarded as disgusting.
I am the taste of oblivion,
Ashfall upon the tips –
Of our tongues.
Bitter,
Yet I do still salivate,
At charred red meat.
Craving the taste of iron,
Suffering a life of ADHD –
As An Incarnation Of Gluttony Itself.
How many times?
Have I swollen large obliviously,
Then suffered myself thin.
My disabilities are many,
Comorbid.
Cursed:
Double Edged Sword Syndrome.
The Damocles Effect.
Striving to become more machine,
Than man.
Metal Hopes,
‘Ere the dregs of what remains.
Cybernetic imagination,
Lost to solar winds.
Scattered across the four corners,
Of a round globe.
Were I only to live,
As my kin seek to devolve themselves unto,
Diving head first,
Into that pinnacle of violence.
Thriving fisticuffs.
Following simpler pugilisms.
Let me ferment,
A little while longer.
Quenching steel in used motor oil,
Drifting soy sauce in the vat.
I have seldom known kindness.
Sarcasm, Smarm, Sass.
Cruel dissections.
Honed after the meltdown years,
Of my youngest childhoods.
Anger & rage,
Bloodthirst & frenzy.
Survivalism on display.
What did such survival cost?
Which proof was needed,
That I was monster,
Beast,
Animal –
At best.
Spitting at my Pygmalion Complex,
Whilst lamenting the loss of childhoods,
To neglect & abuse.
Fostering green thumbs.
Applying it to people,
As much as plants.
Only evidence:
Green algae upon my truck.
Ashfall Upon The Tips Of Our Tongues.
