The Schizo-Stroller

Don’t get me wrong,
I don’t mind
Pop-up unions.

It’s those fucking
Flying Panopticons
that really piss me off.

Only you!

Actually casting a stone,
Believing one
Is without
Sin

Is akin to
Fighting over a golden
Apple to see who
Is fairest.

One should
Not judge the innocent.
The naive fuckers.

When I mistakenly
step in a puddle,
I usually don’t mind
the feet wetting aspect.
However…
I tend to be more than slightly
chagrined
when the puddle firstly
kills Tasha Yar,
and then proceeds to
entrap me, insisting
it is the only permitted truth
in all existence

If Karma’s a bitch,
does that make it
a dog’s ma?

Much like
your mum!

I have often noticed with your
treatment of me, that
I am to be held
responsible, but you
think you are not

When you are feeling sick
with weltschmerz from
too much Puritan
Karpman Drama Triangle
AC/DC rescuing and persecution.
And you need to find
some kind of pleasure.
There is always
schaden freude to be found
in remembering Thomas Cook
and Club 18-30 holidays.

In the parlour
Tried by twelve
Out the front door
Carried by six
Out the back door
Hops the kangaroo

Send them to Botany Bay!
To learn some evolutionary thought
Adapting to exploratory practices
A necessary skill
For critiquing thought terminating cliches
And other terminal thought forms.
But if they so fail
At least they will discover
That black swans
Also exist.
And so end
Confirmation bias times
And other self-fulfilling prophecies.

When you’re struggling

Feeling mentally ill

And are worried that

You’re kind of weird.

Don’t forget

It’s completely normal

To hate feeling so shit

Thus I became Anubis!

I thought
That this would be a great
Opening to an epic poem.

But for me to do that
I would have had to
become Virgil.
So I started the poem

Thus I became Virgil!

And so with that
I was no longer Anubis
…
Nor Virgil.