It's no concern of mine
how you deal with the body

I've waived my authorization
of its nerve path commands

It's no concern of mine
whether you desecrate the grave;
whether you stand in the corner
and jerk off,
raise your springy genitals
in the backlight of a shivery afterlife
with your underpants 'round your ankles

It's up to you,
well, hardly, even;
just something for living entities
in a world in passing

The crocodile gaze
is yours,
with your meandering blood vessels
and cardiovascularity,

but be vigilant;
watch your dreams:
The bed may turn on you;
enclose you
in the gasping suffocation
of the sundew's fly catch
in the marshes of Scandinavia

You're not guaranteed
against the completely unexpected

The soles of your feet
may turn spongy
faster than you can exclaim ”Oh shit!”

Your speech turns into a gargle
and your mouths fill with top-soil

It's no concern of mine
thinking about me
when I lie uninhabited
with what's best for me spread out
beyond unconsciousness
and bodily functions,
in complete and outstretched indifference

You're no concern of mine,
never were

An old plastic bag flaps
where the world ends

Tinnitus is broadcasting live
in innumerable skulls

Range of operations
bends backwards

The Rider of Rot rules,
abandons his posture

and trickles off