fuck it (a poem)

[ffejrecuahc2]

fuck the man
fuck the resistance
fuck your battle plans
and fuck your positions
fuck that man
and fuck fertility
fuck the futility
of the aging man's virility

the time has come
to cut the rope
umbilical swingsets
we stand not amazed
facing our abilities
with less than your agilities

the time is now
to face the fire
dancing in our eyes
lighting up the shit
that's taken up residence
in that prime real estate

the space between our ears
the Turd Museum of our mind

collectively
excrementally
unconscious

ranting at a child
who's shooting up Camus
tripping
into nothingness
no yellow neither blue

we're waiting for Godot
who the fuck are you?