I’ve no time for the salt
of your finger
Swirling in the cocktail
of my own mind,
Polluting it with blindness
to humanity and
Neglect of aspiration for
something better. 

I’ve no time for the slobber
of stupidity or
The chase of matter-less 
matter and 
Classless titling in a profession
of corruption.  

I may be a monster, but I can
sniff you out
before you could ever lay a 
hand on what 
I deem worthy of this evolution. 

A fair warning,
I will obliterate you before you
get the chance 
To hand over your glass lined
in ketamine. 

– B.