What could be raunchier than a rat-licked excuse
Isolated yet taunted by daily routine?
I would rid quid pro quota of note, and I would
Rid the world of its people, that is, if I could.
Sometimes anger is much greater than can be seen,
And most others would see it all as self-abuse.
How do I get myself out of such a hot spot?
I must know how I got here, then see where to go.
This world has much to offer, both wanted and not.
Either fear or desire will reveal what I’ve got
And I do have a choice in the matter, I know.
People aren’t out to get me. There is no big plot.
Everything is a microcosm of the whole,
From the tiniest particle to things immense.
Within each there exists every other, then some,
Along with sharp dichotomy to overcome.
To consult inner guidance does make perfect sense.
I’d much rather be wrong than be without a soul.