300/365: Rebel in Fuzzy Slippers
If extremes will be justified
and the middles painted terrible,
then I will be terrible.
Fuck it all, I think.
I will be terrible.
There is too much of this,
and there is too much of that.
I will sit in the no-place middle
with the wrongness of all things
and revel in my terrible smugness.
It will be like smoking his cigarettes
after dirty sex
or cold sand on my naked ass
at blue sunrise
and I mean everything,
became more than dangerous.