It’s been a long time,

since I was inspired by insanity

and while idle,

feeding my neurons

with bizarre thoughts,

I concluded

that I am not a Saint,

I am not a hero and 

I have no desire

to be either.

 

A slip of the tongue

Reveals a fault –

One of many

And I expose myself

to preachers

screaming of purity,

demanding

thought castration.

 

Purity is an ugly woman,

who turns your mind

to coal and

your body to cement-

thus I stand in place

ready to defend

my impure island

and protect

my life of sin

from the invading Pharisees.

 

I stare into the water,

and the sky,

and I see them.

They are many.

Like a disease,

they spread quickly

multiplying faster than

Fibonacci’s rabbits,

and all I can think is:

“Fuck, they are here”.

 

Fivos R Drymiotis 11/29/2005