Monstrosity

What would you say― 
if I shed my identity, 
before the water enters the boat? 

A cold-blooded, 
culpable homicide, of the genius, 
whom you gave your house 
of cards. 

Amidst the pathless windows 
leading to no night 
no dawn. 

The ice bucket dramatics. 
What message you want 
to send, to thirsty small birds. 

The fishermen sleep 
beyond the echoes. No stones 
were going to scream.