Bandi Nymphati

Flashpot fires beneath my tail
burning never kept anything in place
scorched lands behind
fresh lands ahead
rapacious reputations reap in a swarm
head on collide
plowing furrows one way
in the other, war
between advancing fronts
I pop clear of my home on the farside of the moon
there’s nothing dark about it
my front yard faces space
my outhouse shits Earthward
aggregated grasshoppers on my tail
follow my scent through airless waste
they know their own
and I shan’t get away
one hopping mad moron
pursued by the rest – hoping madly
life is a test that can be passed – to achieve Heavenly access –
and I hope so too
as I pass it like gas after a Mexican lunch
thrrpt-put-put-put-furmble-toot
follow me at your peril because, believe me,
life stinks
and what we do to live it – literally and otherly –
ain’t even close to fucking worth it.

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