Saturday, July 16, 2011

Holograms and Prisms

Or maybe just like me the light is broken
frog, troll, village folk
peasants wading in mud
what can you expect?
maybe a crust of bread
some muddy soup
he loves her in a dress
stronger than an ox
she tip toes around
concealing her strength
pale green wrap skirt
white shirt small pink flowers
ass like iron
able to crush a man in a single thrust.
Her sweet voice carries on the air
succubus.
but I love her.

They're wailing in the streets
and gnashing of teeth
millions drowning the monster
in champagne
in blunts
in cracks
they crawl
screaming the praises of the elite
riding our backs with whips
"we will swallow you and spit you out"

Been killed by a spike through my head
I've been ground up
run through like sausage and
packed in a transparent skin.
I have been tied and chained
stretched and burned
decapitated by a look.

It's time for the springing
sweet water falls
wash away down the drain
time to melt
love; an unruly concept
unconditionally
play your music on my skin
while I remember what it's like to be nothing
and everything
the universe
a point of light
grain of sand
orgasmic.

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