White phosphorus burning through the night
Skeleton crew on a slaver, hug the equator tight
Drone fly like metal kite
Hellfire out the sky, open your book to Revelations
Anyone hatin’, this your chance to get right
“I maintain an air of serenity which is spurious I manage this by limping my limp artful creation not an abject limp (Quasimodo) but a proud limp (Byron) I move slowly solemnly through the world miming a stiff leg this enables me to endure the gaze of strangers the hatred of pediatricians”
Donald Barthelme | “Alice”