Craise

Praise and criticism cancel like a like a swirlee.

Like perfect advice from everywhichway
flushed down the sexy hyperbolic
of my porcelain sarcophagus
with equal and opposite force they annihilate.

Like particle and antiparticle
into a swill of free deity
or the naked zero
(that which does not exist exists everywhere)
before vast spaces of positive and negative I am annihilated.

You would think that I care.
That maybe I should do what you praise
and not do what you condemn.

Surprisingly,
the shit of praise is slicked over
with the waste paper of critique.
The toilet hisses, tinkles, gurgles
like its possessed by hell.

I got my shit out.

No one has to love the smell.

Maybe I’ll shut the door.

Honey, next time I promise to put the seat down
but until then
I can give two shits.

I don’t have to care
any more than
you have to read,
but the difference is
I gotta get my shit out
and if I listened to you
I’d go dizzy with confusion.

There is only one man,
one humanity,
and that is me.

Cuz nothing gonna ride out
the lust of gravity and the grave.
Eventually we all gotta sit still.

We find the bottom of the whirlpool.

For we tumble toward the giant asshole in the sky.

The end at the center of the beginning