i do another line..blind spot's euphoric erasure
multiply
like christian abortion

i do another line....this induces vomiting
i'm having trouble breathing
i can see nothing through the amassing blindspots..
life is now pain's erasure

i do another line...my esophagus contracts so violently
it renders me an immobile fetus
i pick up my guitar to make hate into a single
unwavering sound...
1992's feral prophet reborn
i see my blood dripping down off my face
onto the fender's light brown maple neck

i try to do another line
and my hand slips through the tray..
my asomatous body falls into the toilet
and continues through the floor
to the sewer beneath

(this vaccinated motion brings such tears to her eyes, that i now have my sound)
..and i feel nothing

and what is this before me that rises like october @ midnight

2 archways whisper Genocide
the one to the far left emits a gold radiance,
lined in my own blood,
w/ the voice of christ weeping for heaven's loss

the other, a diseased abyss blue,
the doorway outlined by various infant body parts

i run like the wet shit under my legs and thighs towards the first one
i run like hunger for the tribes i embraced 10000 years ago
and i fail
for a moment i think of all the german modernist composers
the french impressionist, the italian violins & osterias
i'll never see
and for that brief passing moment
where my situation becomes clear
i am destruction..

..and then i am nothing

i am a bacteria w/o the tender love of Tijuana's whores......

hell isnt hot sister,
its cold..like a lover's empassioned stare
changed to a stranger..leaving
you wondering
& wandering hopeless

i never wanted human contact like i did then

instead my open hand is greeted by the surrounding dank, rotting, blue liquid..it immerses everything w/in its aquarium
it drains and disintegrates all things
human..or otherwise

-- Excerpt from Elizabeth Must Die