How do you categorize this one?

Familial Mediterranean fever E85.0, Developmental Disorder of Speech F80.9, Multiple Personality Disorder F44.8, or
Tourette’s Disorder F95.2

the elders and magistrates have prepared contingent speeches.
i hope they’re well-received.
i never know who i’ll be talking to and i could never pull this off/on/off/on/off/on my own.

“he found you,
you lied there (forever!),
rejecting resuscitation
because my mouth was unappealing
or whatever
irrational number
you’d pull to ward me,
even though we’ve all pretty much put our dodecahedrons in your sphere at this point,
and the differences are edgy, but always fit the same.”

“hey epicurus,
heard you’re killin’ it
now that i’m out.
and cozening your thirties verve
is no longer hip or becoming
or something substituted and tolerated
from high on that throne i made for you.
food tastes better now, huh?
face is better now?
and those [fill in all the pleasures here] are better now
that you’ve got the whole world to suck
please and thanks?
gregarian, indeed.”

guess what?
you’re still
a fucking coward
amounting to nothing really
before true isolation
and stepped right back into the river
that’s ‘sooooooo different this time.’
until it isn’t.
until it is.
until it isn’t.
see what i mean?
also, your unity of opposites
and the ever-changing universe concepts
are mutually exclusive.
up and down are different every time, remember?”

“dearest aspasia,
lying there longer isn’t the same as trying.
or working.
you never did anything but take it.
never shoulda’ believed i could be your pericles
while you turned it out
in hetairaen society.
P.S. – way to go teaching pericles the younger to abandon people.
that’s gonna pay off.”

i surrender.
but rome is waiting just ahead
and you don’t speak latin.”





Oh, nevermind.
It’s F48.1