Who's in
Charge Here?
(Beneath
the Triumph of Shadows)
Who's in
charge here? (Beneath the triumph of shadows)
Old ass
monkeys swivel in the discuss/fiscuss lovers yahtzee style
Circle
of viral disease spent in whirlpools of light hatred, beginnings of the
new world...
"Jimmy
trick," the space captain moaned from beneath the cosmic red rays of
radioactive
dead curl "You make my heart sing"
A homosexual
antibiotic for no sex in venereal hallway sleaze
Cross its
path if you must return head-burn,
seperate
the vile scent from a misspent youth uncouth elders sent these children
to their demise
unrecognizable
limbs sway in palm shadow
Rigorous
waves that I ride on, endless (so it seems), corrupt crawl, withdrawal
-
bent on
trembling knee prayers thrust up, thrown to sky
Eyes torn
out and tattered rags of emotion
Devotion
often squandered on a heap of melting flesh, mesh teeth, howl aloud -
"Forget
me not, forget me not"
Recognition
blurs and spurs me on to further acts of degradation
No boundaries,
no limits, no space beyond acceptance of the mass genocide to come
Squealing
for a fat tomorrow (never known)
A quick
infliction and the last convulsions of life into death begin
and while
you may think it morbid, the reality will not hide repulsion
It breeds
like a plague-ridden flea from carcass to carcass
Door to
door parasite, sign your name to the list of those dying
Get a hold,
grip tender with your organ...
Sugar sex
on a bed of holy whoredom
There is
no bill of sale with this love
Let it
all be known.
And in
false dedication, I defile all before me
Medicate
the shell of a body you thought was alive
Hobby-horse
goat...gloating/bloated
Candy cotton's
spun its web of sickening, sticky rush around you - nothing as it seems
Apocalyptic
memory soon come true
Riding
the pale horse which taunts you, haunts you with its wholesome/precome
illusion
Suck you
fuck, and suck until I cum
What might
it entail to flaunt you as the hustler you've become?
Hole in
the head, dreading the next image
A haystack
needle mile, descending mend-tack pile o'skin and we cannot escape the
inescapable
How could
they?