I am not from here.
Don’t recognize your customs and your ways & means.
Your standards of poor.
Depravities and atrocities committed in the name of deities lesser than me.
You aliens. Ant like. Farmed as cattle.
Bred as sustenance and cannibal.
You make mockery of appearances uncomfortable in your own vessel
Glamoured modifications to be original.
Pack like in your mimicry.
Constantly looking towards an Alpha, content being a Beta, obsessed with the Omega
Forgetting that this language is younger than mine.
Infant like Ants. Alien Nature. Farming land producing no spoils.
Spoiled. Ungrateful. Unaware that gifts I’ve bestowed upon you should be mocked.
Drafted then call my fiction fantasy.
Fantastic.
Phantoms filled with folly and fear, failure.
Fractions of full falsehoods.
Fooled for fuckery, flashes in frying pans, food filleted, fermented meat.
Meet your higher power.
Leave these Farms. Ants. Alien although foreign should not always be unfamiliar.
Sometimes. I. Wonder. Have You Ever Considered. The Way You Look From Here.
I look at you and wonder.
And I don’t believe that your elitist ideal of being the only being.
Waiting for me to collide with your ideology to reassure your inflated ego.
To satisfy your justified juxtaposition that in infinity minute best describes you.
I create miracles as common as smiles.
You ask for moonbeams and mysticism.
I naturally levitate and you commission Otis to elevate to my level.
Rolling on vogues.
Languishing in your little boxes. On hillsides. That all look the same.
Unable to recognize the value I’ve added to your existence.
Unfeasible to walk in my shoes I gave you syncopation,
A cacophony of sounds, rhythms to connect you. You use it to divide.
Able to live a Golden Life. Content with Pyrite Masks.
You idiosyncratic Ants. Farmed for Harvest. Afraid of your Alien.
Maybe if I called myself by a different name you’d respond differently.
I am in moniker God unto myself.
Worshipping all others but me.
It would be so easy to but you’ve become unself-awared.
Unrealized power. Strong like ANT.
Potential. Untilled like FARMS.
ALIENATING my peace.
