Comedy
Where do you find God? What book, box, bottle, burger, or boudoir do you open up to find him gone? A whiff of his perfume of perfectness still hanging in the air. That window slightly open with the blinding white light streaming through it from between the clouds, did he just leap out it? That plate with meat grease now growing mold, was that the existence defining meal you've been searching for? Those drugs used up by the bed, were they the ones that held the key to unlocking the creativity and potential no one but you knew you could have had? Those socks on the floor are they the last dissolving vestiges of the of the utopian man that could have communed with some dirty nirvana you might have longed for that possibly lived here? He was what you should have been, what you were supposed to be in some shade of future possibility. oh shit; is this your own bed room. What did we just do? Did we just listen to OEBREW? What is heaven? Is it drowning in soup, having a mammal spliced on to your organs, banging a computer, gulping down what evolution taught you to as a man(sugar and fat, pervert), not helping the homeless, or finally asking for help in (horse?)therapy? All I know is that I want it, I want it bad. OEBREW O.U.T.