Dear Mother Culture

Dear Mother Culture,

I am I carcass waiting for you to send your vultures?

If I get up will I be able to run?

Mom told me to stare at the sun

“I did mom, now I can’t see”

“Good son, that’s all you’ll ever need.”
She named me Stevie with no intent

Wonderful times, yet no true content

The Earth still spins

Flowers still bloom

I drop my safety pins

World brims with gloom

Dad said, “Be a man.”
I didn’t listen

Formed my own clan of outlier snakes

Hissing and dismissing comments people made

My pride, a needle in a haystack

Hard to find time like a filled up almanac

Dad eventually separated

His love evaporated

Hit the road like Jack

Filled with deadbeats like Kerouac

Mother Culture am I waiting for you ultimate vulture

Or a demon to spawn in the sepulcher

I smell the sulfur

Even Hermes didn’t receive his message

Hercieses morphed into lessons

What is a man?

What is a human?

Are all hues just men?

Are women all set up with tinges?

Like a rusty door, you’ll hear my hinges

Life is starting to wither away

Another rose to succumb to a winter decay

It’s done

Another blink

One last look at the sun

The beguiled clouds are synced

Mom spoke, “I’m just kidding don’t stare even if beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
Now I can’t see and my body hasn’t been any colder.

Best Regards

Carson Sandell,

Hell’s Heathen

Heavens Guard