osaka

i'm looking forward to being incredibly happy
rising with the sun firmly on my boundary
trapped far from myself and searching for answers
in the hearts and eyes of the loves i'll be lost in, with
no wonderful tongue to know, lost, lost in the
cherry snow, black dark black on streets and trains,
eyes and hairs all matched the same,
all merry madness unfriendly and tame.
i'm looking forward to low expectations
nothing from no one that no one owes me,
unthinking free from the firm hand,
selfish at last, unfolding in the garden of
my own end. they won't have nixon to kick around anymore
(I'm nixon) here, where
i could never be glimpsed, let alone seen,
or ever known in that full capacity through which
they would have known my awesome glory. oh my dead end
self-contradictory android nation, programmed for destruction--
i'll sigh when i see it go, having learned and always known
what not a single person could ever see in wasted years not listening
to me.

mothers thrown off lightly tonight, without a second thought,
their power grown from milk consumed rejected by their healthy sons.
nothing known, by nothing, no one--empty at last, free of delusion.
i'm your disconnected anchor, sinking slowly, smiling,
i've given you that pride you have, and you wield it so capably--
i have no need to fight you, son, because you're still my child--
i'd have destroyed you at any time, if that's what you desired.
instead i'll bow and take my leave, from this sad scene with no worthy audience
to read into the truth and lies and balance of morality--
or who is true and who deluded, who's to say for sure--
all i know is that i don't mind, all i know is i can't care,
i'll exit left with credits kept, the aftermath laid bare