Bullets spewn out of a gun.
Water on the edge of bottomless falls.
Ultimate explosion, imminent implosion.
Integration, disintegration, trust, it’s just
the same bursting God-awful death.

Do you want me to be nice to you?
I will be nice to you and you will be nice to me.  It’s just
some what
for what
and tat for tits.  Call me the
revolving door,
here tomorrow, gone some more.  And some more.

I have to do this ugly dying,
untimely death
stuff cold. So little matters anymore and everything.
Yes, you’ve heard it all before, so
and tell a few more lies dear, lest I
rise from the dead
and kick you in the butt!