children of a lesser god

i dream of nothingness—

visceral tongues pressing into my skin

they say the streets are mean

meatloaf catastrophes

a bag of green, a bag of bones

a world infested with

intravenous sleep and pocket change

i have made love to diseases

camping in my chest

overstaying their welcome in

this pigsty of rats

they say we live in godless times

filth encasing pretty pavements

perhaps i like my crispy crystals

far too much

they kiss the enamel of my teeth

the caverns of my nose

the blood of my streams

exhaustion settles in my bones

weary, weary me

all that glistens is my needle

in this haystack of degenerate limbs

there is no heaven in these ugly skies

no heaven for sinners like us

we, the children of a lesser god