semi-vegitative

frustration and resignation, all in the same
physical itch that is a strain that is a sting
that is sore in everything that bends, every joint
burning a little bit, maybe brain cells burning, maybe
neurons itching, a low electrical wattage that shifted
via some electromagnetic re-calibration to
frustration and resignation all in the same
physical itch that is a strain that is a sting

tender malfunction, easy malfeasance
artifact of consciousness, product of biology
shrink-wrapped for the dumpster

why do i want to believe in fate?
one day i'll regret that decision, when it's made for me
because i wanted it, when i'm clawing at an oak coffin ceiling to no avail
the netherworld is a bureaucratic nightmare
but at least there's something out there
flog a dead horse for what seems to be eternity
and one day you'll see it get up off the ground
and gallop over some horizon that is like
a spoon in your brain that got turned around
and nothing will be the same again, cause there's a twisted spoon in your brain
but you can't remember what it thinks like to be in any different derangement

still itching, still burning
no alternative to pleasure, take the baton
it's a relay race