offensive to some, certainly juvenile

metaphors

behold the man: an egomaniac. which is what de cassere said. what so many others said.

give me fame. give me respect. give me money. admire my words. admire my face. i don’t call it sin.

i don’t call it sin. get that straight. i reveal it not to revile it. i reveal it to see it whole. there we are, folks. egomaniacs. there we are folks, a thirst for glory.

some call it sin. this too was a path to glory. one path set itself against the other path. all were paths to glory. all were paths to power and self-love.

the rich man with his gold. the holy man with his cross. here comes the light, folks. all the same. all the same. all the same. the word man with his pen.

i too want a piece. i too would like to pose. i vote yes. yes on proposition life. all in all i like it fine. i like to sing and fuck and dine. i feel strong. i feel beautiful. call me faggot or narcissist. i am all of that and more.

new and improved. assimilating everyday. 5 billion serves. i eat the cum in books. books are cum from vanished penises. mental cum.

nietzsche was bisexual dioynsos. he had to keep it on the down low. he was a ahead of his time. i can afford to be obscene. i can scoff at the academic. i can dance naked before i lose my mind.

on the shoulders of henry miller. on the shoulders of bukowski. on the perversity of joyce. on the lean prose of hemmingway.

the academic pose serves it purpose. i don’t need it thought. that era is passed. philosophy has been unveiled. social class dissolved. some are rich some are poor. that’s all folks. no more illusions of modesty. not for me.

i’m nasty. don’t care if you like it or not. expect you to anyway. some of you. this is nakedly elitist. fuck your equality, that fantasy of the inferior. it was hard to write that last line. it seemed so obvious. it seemed so not worth saying. i did it anyway. for those who haven’t noticed yet. the young perhaps. the stupid, the inferior.

god’s not dead. i feel fine. i’m at the top of my game. “he says he’s god. that’s funny.”

that joke is also old. for some quite new. for some quite obnoxious. how strange, this concurrence of attitudes.

some on their knees. some on the breeze. some scratching fleas.

the peak of it all is to see your own damn self as god. if foolsophy can teach you nothing else, it better teach you that. be careful who you tell though. envy is a lion prowling, seeking whom it may devour.

slaves help their masters keep other slaves in line. inferiority loves company. the pseudo-christian self-righteousness is nothing but a power-substitute of course. you might ask why they don’t join the devil. the devil is something for loners. then there’s the confusion of ethics and aesthetics.

i don’t steal or kill. i’m a nice guy. get that down, professor. call my satanism hypocrisy. that would be misunderstanding it though. i believe in the fusion of christ and lucifer. those two are symbols for me. those two are characters. they are not supernatural realities. they are aesthetic models.

jesus loves. jesus understands. jesus forgives. jesus is curious. jesus is an outward force. jesus is a wet cunt. jesus is female.

satan is self-love. satan despises the ugly. satan is the asshole critic. satan is an inward solitary force. satan is a patriarch. satan is dick.

just as the asshole and the pussy are close friends, so are satan and jesus. satan the asshole. jesus the pussy. the truth is an hermaphrodite.



i think solitude is holy. but then community enriches solitude. blah blah. i smell shit on my chin. this is poetry, folks. don’t forget to laugh, if you can manage it with that cross on your back. (or is it a cape?)