assassination

i wanted to assassinate myself,
but what does assassination look like,
i do not want it to look like a suicide or just a murder

i intended to destroy,
destroy everything that existed in myself,

when I was twenty-six,
I plainly enjoyed indulging in the slash-and-burn
attitudinizing of the conventional,
regardless of the consequences,
i was essentially, a madman,
of intolerable temperament

influenced by only savage materialism,
i explored at a dizzyingly, rapid-fire pace,
experimenting with the developments
of new paradigms,
i was in a period of my life,
that was open to intuitive
reception of spiritual impetus

i was born inside my mother, in 1893,
my father was an explicit teaser of
sexploitation materials,
in the era of insanity,

i had some sort of esoteric, supersensitive,
transcendent breakdown,
which won me permission to go my own way

i was transported in an ancient shadow,
in a ultra discarnate, incorporeal,
without a physical presence,
to my Dirty Boulevard,
injecting my psyche with the
noise of the subway, of the 'el,'
my brain became a long street of buildings 224
stories high. . . . down with what was,
down with expectations,
down with all that has ever been,
my soul has return to its primitive state