I would have been better off as a late Sixties Roman Catholic abortion,
woulda, coulda, shoulda never been born, sometimes I wish I were a miscarriage
of pregnancy, of justice, of concept, not just a Roman Catholic mistake,
until recently, my soul would have been lost in Purgatory, lost in Limbo,
lost in a non-existent realm of mind, of a pope's fictive imagination,
despite the fact I would have never been alive to type these words, would it matter
had I never been born, I ask you this with tongue in cheek, "It's a Wonderful Life,"
ask hypothetical questions, as if speculation makes any real difference,
victims of cruel jokes mean nothing to me, I will die laughing at their misery,
ever since I understood my mistake, "Choose Life" said Frankie Goes to Hollywood,
burn in Hell, languish in Heaven, bullshit conceived by the Roman Catholic Church,
even if Portuguese Conquistadors never sailed to Goa to rape women,
even if my ancestors fell in love with their oppressors, as victims of faith,
never in my life could I imagine we were brahmins who left the highest caste,
but my mother says so, her delusion humors me, since it's not from dementia,
even if I were born a good person, instead of a philosophical fool,
to believe in and trust all the nonsense, the metaphysical rubbish thought up,
trapped inside the minds of drunk Trappist monks, liquored up to high heaven on their ale,
even if I were just slightly dumber, locked inside my body, inside my brain,
restless as a cripple whose hamster wheel fell apart because of an accident,
only that would be the worst punishment, the greatest thing to fear, death means nothing,
for an anarchist and an atheist, an iconoclast and a home wrecker,
for the only thing that keeps me alive is my wife, plain and simple, Apathy.
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