your heart
is made
from the shoe leather
of your drunken mother
your soul
is the ash tray
in which your father
crushed cigarettes to their death
your face is blackness
void of human characteristic
your words sharpened blades
hurled at the apple
placed perpetually
upon the heads of those
who must endure you
time and sunlight
will cure the earth
of your plague
all without the help
of a god in heaven