Blamethrower

Don't worry,
you can always fall back
into a pool of spilt milk,
bleed it salty with crocodile tears
of could have beens,
those pretty little rewind
focus shifters beckoning,
teasing you from the other side
of an impenetrable lead
and cigarette smoke wall,
those taunting evasive
egosexual suggestions,
freed from the shackles
that bind us all
to trickling iotas
on the fourth dimension axis.

Or go ahead,
light a spark,
open the faucet
and ignite the blamethrower
to scorch clean
erroneous extradermic illusions,
the conspirator's razor thin
spider web connections,
nemesis shadows,
betrayal blues
breakdown boredom
blah blah blah...

One final crystal night.
One holocaust of mind...
to cleanse your conscience.