Faux Pas! ! ! Poem by Ali Rahimi

I shot my grandmother!
A blunder, a faux pas!
Did I bark up the wrong tree?
The mischief is done,
What is done can not be undone,
Grand matriarchal grief,
But revolt, power, ecstasy, change,
No boredom, no emotional fatigue, no tedium,
Away from life in aquarium,
Akin to jellyfish, turtles, or plants in a plantarium,
Or reef, frogs, not even whales in oceanarium,
No more dry talks in auditorium,
Gone is the humdrum symposium,
To hell with the podium,
Spreading gibberish and nonsensical ‘'wisdom'',
Injecting narcotic poisonous ideological opium,
Instilling paralyzing polluting mental delirium,
Just illogical fanatical discursive diarrhea,
Of narcissism and egotistic megalomania,
I am immune to paranoia, constraints and intellectual malaria,
I am impregnable to pandemic mental Ebola,
I shot my grandmother!
Am digging her grave now, worry-free, annoyingly happy!
Prepared dazzling flowers,
I am The Manhunter, The Bone Collector!

It was a prank, a practical joke, a sick joke, a bad dream,
A playful flamboyant sportive act,
Or a joyful lapse of logic,
A superego outsmarted by id, ego and libido,
Mind and body disconnected,
Brain and flesh in conflict,
I shot my grandmother!
I shot my grandmother!
I shot my grandmother!
A misguided slip of mental commands,
A misjudged whimsical petty sin,
I am a desperado, brainless, adventurous,
I am a daredevil, valiant, reckless,
Apathetic ruffian, cold-hearted rascal, heartless criminal,
Casually beautifully unemotionally murder my lovers,
Silence of the lamb,
Mr. Brooks, The Red Dragon, The Chaser,
I detest uneventful monotonous moments,
Of a lethargic life, fed up with sameness,
Disgusted with identical human habits,
I abhor vacuum, I hate suffocating stink of similarity,
I abominate orderly regulation, nauseating symmetry of mentality,
I am The American Psycho, The Brave One,

I am disconnected with shallow minds and fake hearts,
Faulty brain cells, perplexed neurons, wrong heartbeats,
Of fellow miseries, old miseries, young miseries,
Collective gaunt, haggard looks,
Of a bunch of sickly, pallid faces,
In quest of prosperity, justice, and equality,
All waiting for The Chaser, The Taxi Driver,
The Killer Inside, or Citizen X,
Gee whiz! My Goodness! I shot my grandmother!
Faux pas! ! !