The Camel's Back

I would spit venom
In your eye
As you were lying there
Drunk as fuck
And praying for sex.
I'd kick you through the wall
And all the house
Would fall on you.
Your face the reflection
Of my rejection of you.
Words spoke too soon
With no ears to listen.
I'm more furious
Than a Bengal tiger
Whose stripes glow red
With deprecation,
I need a vacation
From your bullshit.

A Discourse on Momentum

I abide by the law of gravity
To stick always to the ground
And never to the sky,
For I fear that I would float away
To deconstruct this perfect scene
Where imperfection steals the stage.
I could lie in the crook of Atlas's arms
And permit his authority to govern
My corporeal character,
Despite my endeavor to keep pace
With the race of the moon.
A monsoon would further propagate
Such provocation of reaching the nation's shores
Upon the tumultuous swell
That cracks the Pacific sand like a slave.
The mythical mantra uttered,
My hands grasping new land
As the esoteric cloud coverage splits apart,
And the sky is endless, open, and blue.