Ritual pranks
in the depths of the womb, groups of mycelia grow
red threat when the squid is forced to show
when things are dirty
we gather, though not with haste
mushrooms hunger for ritual pranks
our crematorium is clean like a lab
frequent visits to the vomitorium are tiring and bad
your trajectory is life without disguise
but if a girl rejoices, it delights the eye
checkbooks spin their gears at speed
thoughts like werewolves landing from cosmic ships
ready by nature for any weather
if there’s a goal
you’ll serve as the gun’s belt together
full discharge into achilles’ heel
smoked the heel
sleep too long, and the bed becomes procrustean
choosing your words, your gear
surveillance camera is turning up the pressure
you take the brown ether cool and bland
they tell you life will be chocolate grand
so send that diet straight to hell without noise
sweet undergarments, the infusoria’s choice
we value your opinions, important and strong
you’re not scared anymore. so loud and long
simply, plainly, so uncool in public sight
gaze delights in what’s not right
hands are clean, thoughts are thick
once again hands are clean, thoughts are thick
brushes are whips, if thoughts are crosses
our canvases won’t be emply
thoughts on canvas will help to save
blessed by the Creator
with the will to grow
Skomorohi, 08.11.2025