The quiet terror of the writer in the graveyard
Stop this death nonsense!
All things cease, accept it!
What is love to death?
Why climb out of hell?
Why not climb out of hell?
The outcome is the same!
Hell here, Heaven here.
Dante you vixen,You Platonic whore,
Give me back my television, My Disc Jockey, My Beethoven…
Fate you slippery bitch,
Come back to my hands,
Where you can’t grasp my cock,
My mad natural compass that leads me,
Welcome into my house, dear Calamity,
Make yourself at home.I don’t suppose you take the stronger liquor?
I live in Calamity. Welcome to my province.
Careful of the merry-go-round here –
It’s free but it doesn’t stop.
The side-show is a little confronting –
It’s your life.
The ‘House-of-spooks’ isn’t very scary,
It’s just your house.
Calamity is just the place to come
If you need to remember you’re a freak –
You chose, you choose, your choice to remember one very special thing…
You are… but not for long.
You’ll live in Calamity soon enough.