I, ash, cigarette butts deep into the iris’ of my childhood home,
Making sure to dig, Dig, DIG!
So that there’s no chance of gazing through peripherals.
And like water,
Pursuing, persisting, Nay! Fuck Howling! (Efficient flow)
For the butt end of
my
Cigarette butt to penetrate,
Deep into the Iris’
Of my childhood home.
Suddenly All,
All, All,
All I heard was static
All I heard,
All
Static was all, I
All I heard was static.
As a Camel Blue cigarette butt drove deep,
-And from a 45-degree angle, facing south from the south pole-
Deep down into the iris’ of my childhood home,
I became less sure of everything thou thought was real,
Just like the porch outside the scorched flesh remains of the iris’
Of my childhood home.
That,
My friends seem to keep jumping off of.