making something out of nothing the gold from the trash can ceiling is dripping and my hands are wet and saturated with everything the colors of the rainbow as my guide to the see i am growing and building like a weed in this common place where everything is sickening and the weak go hungry WE ARE STARVING for that fucking money and peace and although i try to gaze out at it's beauty i want nothing but a piece of its ugliness to take with me and smear these pages with black ink incessantly because we all love things dirty and through our sickness we find beauty and not even the fake plastic kind but the one that glows bright as the morning dew stays week and glistening