there is a portrait of a woman in the bottom of the pool
her breasts are two blisters glowing pink
she laughs and bubbles gargle and pop to the surface
innocent sidewalk hoards
of people who do not know the difference between living and dying
the throbbing heart of the sky hopelessly beats down (like a song) a speech
on tv no one is watching
but they feel it anyway
and it stabs blisters on their feet
they boil and pop
the people are hot today and there are no swimming pools
at least not anymore
man that looks like a
pile of garbage
examines a bleeding hole in his foot where a blister used to be but
the souls of his crumbled dynasty bellow now:
"you - worthless man - are the thief of your own happiness"
they scream like madmen
"you live with and listen to yourself and you
will always want happiness
wear a crucifix around your neck on a chain and
hold your hand over the candle until it blisters
so bad you can't even tell it's your hand anymore
and you will find happiness in a swimming pool
laughing like a madman mosaic in the bottom"
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