the reverse alchemist
the reverse alchemist
by reed posey
Everything I touch turns to shit
Except real shit which turns to money
Money that I owe people
So I rarely bother
I’m probably gonna die soon anyway
I have a sense of impending doom
Of utter doom
Of utter fucking doom
I’m really quite serious about this doom situation
Doom for which this fecal version
Of the Midas Plan
Is little or no consolation
I’m almost out of food
I’ll have to start eating shit soon
If I can’t get people to feed me
If I can’t get people to handle my food
If I can’t get people to stop shaking hands
I tried to eat without turning my food to shit a couple of weeks ago
I had to go face down on the counter
I cut my face up pretty good on that wooden thing that holds the knives
That’s why I grew this beard
This terrible terrible beard
To hide my hideous hideous face
The face of utter fucking doom
oh, a “new” strategy 😉
Awesome.
You should maybe try Xanax.
This is hilarious and depressing.
turns out, gold is really just shit:
http://geology.gsapubs.org/content/38/9/843.abstr…
microbial poop.
This too shall pass. Maybe after the process is over you’ll be rewarded with a real nugget worth the trouble.
Great poem, especially the first stanza. Thanks for making your “face of utter fucking doom” so damn good.
Beautiful
oh wow honey, sounds like it’s following you…