From my mouth, an egg.
From the egg, a monster,
wearing a wet, sticky veil.
Above: the sun, stupid, cancerous.
Below: my monster, full of a ravenous emptiness.
Let there be summer, never-endingly.
Let there be my monster,
consuming one, and one, and one.
Let there be lawyers and elected officials.
Let there be a rot-bog of stench and glory.
Let my monster be Lord of it.
Let the language of my monster's groans ascend,
come deluge, come Judgement.
Let my monster's instant of joy be cemented.
From my mouth, a new history.
From this history, another monster,
dwarfing the first one, and less merciful.