Through thorough boredom awaits Mica, deity of boil
You are envious of the old objects
that explain to you the wear
on their tear
is just same as your tattered
up bong water in sweatshops
visual explanation of the wonder.
Your own connect the dots projection against
are once pined for
truth open to discussion.
When you started to believe that everything
in this space was placed in their
place so you could mark
mapped up territory.
had to be
made into a senseless scuttle
bug proving structure with the air it left
it strayed from looking.
Now you howl
dying in place from
mad way out
to blink once finished universes