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Shitting, fucking, and eating
Are all the things of labour, are they not?
We labour to penetrate our bodies,
To penetrate the world with ourselves,
And labour is the desperate cycle of necessity, is it not?

We labour now to draw eyes to us,
To shit, fuck & eat for applause, do we not?
To desperately inflate the necessary,
The endless seizing with penetration,
All to hear the thunderous roars, have we not?

As for the act which transcends,
We forgot the things outside of labour, did we not?
It's necessary to love to shit and fuck and eat,
For haven't we made it the limits of the world,
Like rutting dogs joined at the knot?


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