• take everything that i own and run for twilight.
    take this piece of paper and i might make you my wife.
    three minutes and three wishes i hold inside.
    number one is that i'll get three more wishes and suicide
    is my natural cause of death.
    my head lays sideways, not moving,
    dead hands wander and her voice is soothing as calamine.
    i calibrate the settings 'cause time is a pal of mine.
    my neurosis is motivation for the lactose intolerant.
    screwing up the system and circumnavigate trendsetters and bedwetters alike.
    even the gods don't know where in the hell to send me,
    as my voice deafens the heavens, and aphrodite got venus envy.
    attend to my second wish and i might throw time out of my window
    along with my track record for being upon it.
    think about this, minute made metaphoric alterior motivation
    while you stare at my custom-made furniture
    and try to identify with visual stimuli.
    everything that i've got,
    i made for myself from the lack of quote/unquote "real friends,"
    to the burnt candles on the shelf.
    sit in contempt, no wait a minute, stop and stare,
    compare my style to any, it's gummo and gummy bears.
    midwestern american hero turned conspirator in the war zone.
    one last beat and one wish on the metronome.