I don't want to look at you anymore Your face reminds me of too much hatred Forces me to listen to the screaming of the past The slamming doors of the present The polished coffins of the future So I'd prefer not to gaze upon you again. I cannot listen to your double negatives anymore Your voice has the texture of a thousand prisoners Fighting and killing in the rapture of fear and childhood confusion The lack of compassion The failure to admit guilt The return to the womb of abandonment Therefore, silence has become my modicum So, keep your demented comments to yourself. Why make a child, just because your cock throbs When your nipples get hard is that proof that you deserve a child The children grown of lust have gathered at the gallows Moreover, I too, am there With my big silver whistle Poised to organize this chaos Using sharp piercing cries. "Line them up, (I say) I want to get a better look at this sick collection of fuck-ups. These political parasites These foster parent cocaine smokers These greedy defilers of all that's humane The cream of the system Hand salute Now break all of their necks on the count of three. Who's with me!". My mother was instantly at my toes My father sat saddled upon her back All of our ancestors were chain ganged behind them with sharpened scythes drooping. She said, "If you kill us now you will also cease to exist". I smiled my worries bright like an obese advertisement on the side of the free-way, and motioned for a continuance. "We are all here today to witness The release of self pity The burial of doubt, and the cremation of the reactive mind I would like everyone to return to his or her homes, and ritualistically remove and discard any shoe boxed letters or picture that has captured the past within its contents, and put a match to them, amen.". "Long live the future and may we have the opportunity to share her bed for eternity. Never growing old and always possessing the option of thumb sucking and hermitage if need be, Hallelujah.". Get over it, then get over you.