I have seen my true soul
It is neither young nor old
Neither rich nor poor
Neither a believer nor an atheist
Neither law-abiding nor an anarchist
Neither slovenly not yet eager
Loves neither man nor woman
Is neither alone nor in company
Is neither still nor in motion
It neither senses nor thinks
It neither eats nor drinks
It is neither inside, nor out
It is neither everything nor yet nothing
I have seen my true soul

If I promise myself I should leave this place
Where farcical degradation has become commonplace
My work to break the laws of inevitable decay and renewal

Around the frilly winter naked trees
One like old auntie’s bloomers
The other phallic and upright

The psy-cops had a fix on me. It was the pizza I had eaten the night before-
the radioactive anchovies had caused a deviation in my psychic
emanations. But I was in my rad-proof shelter, I laid back to an electronic
mantra. The nearby trees would protect me. Yet I was pinned down, unable
to move, until the wardens merely became bored at my lack of activity or
decided to move in on me. In which case they would have a shock. I wasn’t
wearing any underwear


Copyright © Christopher J. Hudson