Must make a list of lists, cursing consciousness,
embittered in hating auditors wanting to blight
awareness – making lists fills me with disgust
I cannot adequately express
Won’t allow positive feelings about it, with the
requisite power I’d strike down spreading
encouragement ruthlessly – were death an
option I’d use it too or take it very seriously
How MUCH I hate lists is explicable though I’d
have to explode in anger, destroy something
precious the same way list-making lovers destroy
me, I must show them graphically
I’d feel better proving they are destructive things
but my job is to smile and swallow bile, dance a
jig in joy; I happily devour the order to make lists
with shiny eyes, a hateful dagger in my heart
I wish the Multiverse could be destroyed in one
big conflagration – all lists changed into explosions,
all forms of being becoming nonexistent, as long as
there never is another list in all the eons to come;
As long as Life becomes extinct in order to bring
about a list-free infinity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem