I am nothing without you—but I am everything in your absence. I bid you be with me in my need, in your emptiness. Be kindhearted in my request, for together I believe our common misery can ignite between us a fiery bond forever feeding the flames of cooperative misery and universal decay. Remember what the master says: “Of the sorrowful lot that is ours to enjoy in lasting misery, make it beautiful.”
I know, beloved — I have singed the ham! I have blistered the meat that keeps us afloat in the same oscillating vessel of relative-infested misery. It claims our weekends and our partitioned masturbatory lacuna at which the wind pricks and the whispering flesh of loneliness thrashes. What’s more, our movement in meat and filth, is no longer tender and so will affront the gums that once held at bay a mouth of frivolous masticators.
Be with me my love. Help me round out my belly with pork chops and sausage and friendless hours watching an undulating playboy channel while nesting my fist in the groin of my solitude at the behest of your toothless misery. I speak not of your crotch, but of your qualities as a brave wife and confident tyrant.
Give my love to your goiter, hard and still as death; my face to your breath, rancid and smelling of love.
Yours in worship and misery,
Harold Encyclopedia Head
Umbriate Press Poetry 