madness is like
the march of bull ants
it spreads sporadically
altering perception
at every turn
and if my anger
is a form of madness
then let it be
for I'd rather bear madness
than be engulfed
in the death throes
of agonising sadness
Art sucks. Poetry sucks. Everything is fucked. I suck. You suck. So if I am so anti-everything, why do I even bother "creating" anything? Well one has to do something with one's time. Welcome to my playground. I am the Dissident Poetician. Doing Poetician stuff is what i do. "Art is dead, don’t consume its corpse" - graffiti in the streets of Paris, May 68. Long live the spirit of May 68. Piss in the fountain of dada.
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