the universe decided to unfold herself 
to look upon herself
to know herself

if narcissus was a narcissist
the universe is one too
staring at herself through you and me

we’re not supposed to think its ugly
the divine creation

but sometimes divinity is fucking ugly
fugly
some fugly mess this all is

sure there’s jazz
how cool you feel in a bebop song
and how babies smell like milk
and when you grow to like campari

I stare at myself in the mirror 
and am not supposed to pick apart the exact and honest way that I look
the way that I want to look 
I see what I like
I see what I don’t

that fucking baby will grow up to be a cool bastard who shits all over you for drinking 
you thought you were growing
or I did
or we did

let’s reflect
maybe that baby will go through it too

the universe will run out of money
cause that’s you, the universe
you’re just looking in the cosmic mirror
knowing your poor-assed self

or me
I can’t keep it straight