Finding out what it can do,
It keeps doing it,
Until it becomes a good—
Compared to what it goes on to do.
This disgusting pleasure is a gift to you.
Desperation hardens into tradition;
Horror is now horror with a smile.
It made me uneasy, I’ll admit,
As I loved you all the while.
Flab is always sensitive;
It knows it is not loved;
Sensitivity is found with beauty,
But sensitivity can be ugly.
Heavy-footed, I march
To the bathroom, unable to sleep.
Flab is able to smell, and feel
The delicate humidity creep.
My delicate hands feel
Everything, even my fat arms.
How sensitive am I?
Sensitive is what harms.
It feels blunt, blunted,
But the pain is sharper,
The criminals, smarter,
Than any time before this.
A polite, chuckling invasion
Becomes brutalist.
If nothing needs protecting,
If randomly specters come and go,
Protection disappears.
(The necessity of protection was evil.)
Rhyme is banned,
And melody. That’s how you’ll know.