Tar

I am detached
I think I was hatched
Not grown inside a womb
Without a view
The black wraps around
Like octopus arms pulling
Me into tar while a Wagner
Opera valkerie stands her
Fat armored ass on my
Shoulders and sings
First German then Italian
Then Pig Latin. It’s all the
Same when you don’t care.
The tar a warm embrace against
A mood frozen solid by
Glaciers wearing masks and
Acting all people like
Bitchy bastardy people,
Cold uncaring selfish people
So smart because they can
Spell Socrates. Mental giants
Drinking, smoking, cutting,
Whoring cheating. None of that
Bothers in the black sticky
Warmth and I go down greatfully
Embraced in midnight colored
Fantasy.