the universal signal of distress
creepy crawling down my brains
so tiny it has to be
a fatale illusion
give it a dozen ringlets
one after another, aimed
for the heart
shutdown, burst, or time
I find that in the petridish
with water and feed
it only grows to be visible
without an electron microscope
for some pay per view
paramecium on paramecium action
which is rather dull
though impressively produced
I wash my hands of it
ysee there is this dream
always, worth fighting for
if I die before the wake
it won’t be inch by inch
electron by paramecium
nope, I choose hell
I’m leaving by hydrogen bomb
with devastation
half finished miracles
and a bloody smile on my face


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