By Mario Castro

No more crawling in wombs,
video games, or cartoon skin
because of my anxiety.
Weight, what just came out of me?
Drugs on a daily bass,
Speakers vibrating in an empty case,
Distorted sound waves from
Bent string theory on the origins of
massive black assholes in storage space.
No more. Please, no more.

Whores in my eyes, looking in the mirror
of my humanity, I beg you not to charge me
Top-dollar to pay for cable TV
because of my anxiety.
Mario. Mario! Where are you crawling off too 

Off too off too off too off too off too off too