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- 16 февруари 2007
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Ambiguity
Crawling on the broken glass insanity,
Through the din of the day,
Kafka makes his way,
To his refrigerated asylum under the grey.
I want to smash this surrealist cockroach,
This tubercular German Jew,
Crooked existential slue,
I want to squeeze his head with my shoe.
But as I stare down at the splinters of my sense
Arranged like mirrors in an infinite recursion,
Whispering about my deliberate subversion,
I’m baptized by a sudden cosmic inversion
It dawns on me then, like it dawned on him,
We’re all horrid vermins, crawling,
With parasitic expressions on our faces sprawling,
Banshees screaming afore mirrors drawling.
The surrealist cockroach checks it‘s antennae,
Scurrilously waves a feeler at my face,
And then, as if it’s losing this race,
It scurries along and leaves no trace.
Crawling on the broken glass insanity,
Through the din of the day,
Kafka makes his way,
To his refrigerated asylum under the grey.
I want to smash this surrealist cockroach,
This tubercular German Jew,
Crooked existential slue,
I want to squeeze his head with my shoe.
But as I stare down at the splinters of my sense
Arranged like mirrors in an infinite recursion,
Whispering about my deliberate subversion,
I’m baptized by a sudden cosmic inversion
It dawns on me then, like it dawned on him,
We’re all horrid vermins, crawling,
With parasitic expressions on our faces sprawling,
Banshees screaming afore mirrors drawling.
The surrealist cockroach checks it‘s antennae,
Scurrilously waves a feeler at my face,
And then, as if it’s losing this race,
It scurries along and leaves no trace.