Did you think my sharp wit would be cut in half
if I fell on a razor’s edge? Do you think my bones
would crunch if you had the ceiling and floor
of the universe collapse on me? Do you think
your clandestine workshops of clocking destiny
against me can turn the tide against me? All your
Peters don’t hold heaven’s keys for me! I am just
the pebble that rattles you in your enormity of
chicanery! See how your doorbells sing alarming
sirens in your ears, so that you are deafened by
my candour! Watch me bequeath you your self-
seeking solipsism with a fast kick in its solar plexus,
each time you think I have died in defeat! Connivers
get no paradise! In all my self-flagellation for you
ingrates is the knowledge that you all will be struck
to your cores with your turnstile wickedness; that
when you all looked away from me in callous cunning
materialism, you lost everything worthy of me. And so
when the time comes when you will be rasping, rag-picking for my
forgiveness, I should boot you all away to an orbitless
darkness in an unforgivingly harsh infinity!
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