Psyche. 3.

I have no real use for all these variables that make up my life. I would be happier if I were alone, without anything, belonging to the earth and giving back to it what it nourishes me.
I have no use for your ideals, your stories, your music, your technological advancements. I have no use for your rockets and planes and guns and guns and guns.
I have no use for your religion.
I have no use for your children and how you think they must be raised.
I have no use for you god.
I have no use for your books, your knowledge, your curiosity and your telescopes.
I have no use for your resounding bass that thumps at my liver.
I have no use for your alcohol or the nights of forgotten intolerance and intoxication.
I have no use for your complicated dance steps and
I have no use for your books and guitar strings and computers and speakers.
I have no use for the internet or cyberspace.
I have no use for your cosmetics, your Botox, your implants, your collagen;
Nor for your movies and lava lamps and camera phones and phone cameras.
I have no use for all these belongings that tie me down to the stickiest part of the solid earth.

I.
Child of no country, of no birth.
There was never chord to connect me to a home, to a man, to a child.
I.
Singular. Expressionless. Bound with energy.
I.
Infinite. Born of the universe, of endless space.
I.
Forever evolving foetus,
Forever evolving
Androgynous
Baby-being.