Points like trumpets, swallows and sighs
Self-loathing grows little feet and runs around
An awkward tap dance for the indifferent sky
To make sense of the heavy shouts rolling down
Or the bolts of light setting fire and blinding eyes
Gashing down yellow strips of jealously in rage
Splitting the soliloquy of the sublime oak tree right in half
Cutting hands away from the golden box
Bloat its legs when it was once so proud
Make it an art to find yourself stumbling around
Smile so big is just flipped upside-down
Hyper-sensitive, give in, give in god-damn
I’d claim you were tipping back the bottle, holy father
I caught you sneaking around the corridors with their daughters
Whispering “submit, submit” to make no martyrs
Grow your hallelujah gut cute creature of immolation