necessary evil

last autumn

i somehow wound up with a zastrozzi complex
things converged:
psyche, diet, configuration, social situation
in such a way as to make me relate
to the guilt-stricken zastrozzi
tortured with the obligation of balancing the scales
with vengeance
righteous vengeance naturally
if you’re going to do something
do it right, cut that loser Victor into
32 pieces of equal size
but even evil for the sake of evil
yes real red-blooded, full-bodied evil
to avoid the saccharine hell of the
imbalanced, sick, pleasantly vague facsimile of reality

somehow i could relate to that imperative perfectly
when happiness was mania, everything ill-gotten, unearned
and there was a fundamental flaw in the function of feeling
life being fractally wrong
and getting wronger with every moment
and every thought

i wrote music for zastrozzi
the character theme wasn't near agitated enough
mere melancholy, though i guess it sounds like i feel
when i'm resigned to the toxicity of this
strip-mined wasteland of
gurgling information, tapwater, power lines, tumour vibes
fiber optic nursery rhymes, lenticular curriculums for
flying saucer apprenticeships and gaktastic nasal drips
post hocking knowledge for triumph of the willful delirium

today i still feel that evil is necessary
but i’ve managed to shrug off the burden
of being the necessary agent for carrying out this evil, me
the humble purple prosist from munchkin land
a kaleidoscopesmith
who would rather chill on the boards than start shit
and who would like to read poetry, and say what i like
about the poems i read
and not talk about what i don't like
cause that never motivates me anyway
when criticism is contrived and my natural
healthy flow of information is my dolce dynamics
mezzoforte, meandering, non-malicious
whatever decadence and complacency that contributes to
because someone else can be the asshole
the target for a divided puppet army
vintage allusion in ten years
golden oldey