the fuck up

i could really do with a fuck

i wanna pole dance some lucky punt

in a cunt, mouth or ass

but normal types want
to make me use robots
in your feared future that
hasn't happened yet

thank fuck

we must see, sort & reallign
for a really simple task
i feel like i say
too late mother fucker
over & over again

i already did 20 years
of trying not to
catch perceived
disease from
holes in walls

put up by abuse
post teen
one kid had already
waiting for factory fed
distillation
into

100 parts per million

messy little girls
who daddy loved too much
so very much,
it cuts them up

drowning down deep to bone
on arms legs, but mostly head
from solicitations
oh & family & friends

to make them blind to
care for
the actualisation
of love happening
or growing within
the now moment to become
solar flare reality

why should any of us care
or show affection
to such a planet
in such a pepetual cattle
marked as an oblivion of the now?

there are middle earth grunts
without thought or aforethought
to nothing but private parts

holes only lipstick mask makes
orifice of risable desire

you can keep 'em

clean wet and breathtakingly
framed in a hubris
of trafficked polemic
casual & lazy
hedonism hides
truly horriffic divides

the dice is not the only
thing that is loaded
its notion in the
rock & roll dance
fakery mocking
glitter cocaine chance
simply danced by...glimpsing

eye to eye
we become meta
the possibility
is redundant

but i now, have
chosen to forget
you

another drawer
another day
of labelled
aquienscience
who do i pity?

that choice
makes me
forever
guilty

growing erection of
ambivalent rapist
dulled by the stoned
reality of nothing more than
bereavement via the language
of fun filled sun drench

we were too young to see
and feeling?

well that's not for the underclass.

we are supposed to breed responsibly.