This is the process,
The excess, on into
The Recess, the pit
The bad-ass abyss,
Where the things you thought
You killed all got wings
And stings, like wasps,
And you remember
You better remember
That childhood day
When you got stupid
And took a fig tree stick
To that gray paper nest
Under the cobwebbed eave
Then screamed like a girl
For a block and a half
Because they ain't bees
And they don't die
And they don't give a fuck
About you being stupid.
Martin Williams
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