the space-walk sutra iii

by Paul-Henri Campbell


the space-walk sutra iii

iii. i'm among the chosen ones

but then suddenly you're selected by a bunch of fucking fucks,
who know of stars as much as a cow knows about sabbath
just because you fit a profile,
because you have a pretty face
or a proletarian background
or perhaps a gaping cunt powdered by stardust
or because you're a minority not yet represented up there
or chruščev's favorite
or didn't lose it at some point, while shaking hands
or what-have-you.
it's chancing, all of it.