the baby

the baby pops
through
mummy, daddy I dream
to be 100% like
you and perform
righteous
acts. I'll follow the
way to the golden door.
the baby walks over
to the chair, this is
my destiny, sits,
it is nine o'clock
so the baby starts
typing. friendship
is an expression.
the bottle does the
talking, son, the bottle
is a religion.
and the
eyes will tell you all
Picasso I've
seen the waking
nightmares of genius.
that is not a block
of stone. that is your
living.
the baby cradles a
rat in the gutter.
pets it. loves it.
feeds it. the rat
has an answer. belief
is overrated.
stroked
and cuddled.
trapped.