My eyes fix upon monument for a giant
And in that state I covet —
Were I that tall. Were that body mine.
In my auspicious youth
I had hoped to master manhood
Only to masterfully refuse it.
As I hold myself to the highest standard,
That which only the Übermensch could meet,
I am distraught at every petty failing,
My unterwäsche drop around my feet.
Factory Issue 1 Available Here
Goldsmiths Creative Writing