I feed my baby napalm
From the loincloth I wore
When I tried to get out;
I mix blood let from my eyes
With virgin gasoline, clear,
Clear as glacial ice,
And as fearsome as its steam,
With two grimy hands for their
Clotting vat, and for me
To siphon later.

He'll be a strong one.
He'll leave The Titan Hell.
When it swallowed me up
Hind-side first I swore
That I would never
Come out of anything
The way that I went in,
That I would blow a
Gaping hole in nature,
And take myself as sustenance.

Mommy fed me veggies,
And Daddy fed me beef;
They were making me into
A Big Boy, they'd say,
A Man before the world,
And surely too much longer!
I ate it up, like I loved it.
But who wants to be a man,
Weak, virtuous – duplicitous?
Every man wants to be a bomb.

That's why I feed my baby napalm.
Ouraboros has no business
With the nut of my fruits, the core
Of the man, shed from the Man,
Who has nothing but Decades of
Rosaries and a valueless recreation
To tread his unaccountably
Over-ripened dreams.

That Pathetic Serpent will leak
The contents of its shameless stream
From Tract Zero of its originally
Perfect form, left to wither
By the sides of those alike the
Passive, the mild, and the firm.
My baby may be killed,
But so shall his oppressor.