.comes the floundering over foul language, like it's a sin to speak with a cascade of oath taken words, to: never mind the beat and rhythm, that will continue, as long, as long you play the solo... never you mind keeping-up-appearances, why be distracted, better yet: why talk during ***? isn't that worse than saying ****, casually, in a conversation of: pardon my french? i will tell you, it's far worse dragging "god" (words) into the "satanic" pit of actual procreation, than it is to say **** and let it be treated as a conjunction, akin to: and... since what words are sacrificed on the altar of *****-*****? bad, boy, who's your yummy, mummy... who's your daddy... i tell you: **** in between some jane austin snippets, and those prunes would be on, fire, should any words be uttered from their mouths having been staged completely ****... no... foul language is free language with all the chanel and gucci to attire you with away from furr-skins... but talking, uttering words, while procreating? that's just plain scandalous! i bet those prim goodie-two-shoes care more for: pardon my french during conversation, yet they probably squeal like about to be castrated pigs in a slaughterhouse come the synagogue of ******... ******* never wish to accomplish syllables or vowel cubism with contorted mouths during ***... but they say: brush your teeth while speaking... if hey-zeus saw hypocrisy in the jewish sects... full circle... who are the modern day pharisees? somewhere in h'america... beastly contortions... if not pedophiles, then at least the sort of pedantic hypocrites that could share the same tier of Dante's inferno... why talk, during ***? why not eat the ****** during the zenith? wow, don't you think? because bukowski might call me a star-gazer... well... if you look up and see what i see? you too would be looking up... but just in order for you to get a feel of what i feel? three song summary when i look up at night at the sky:
   penta - come in,
     gloOMy PhAntOM - only the beginning,
Matutero - pure evil...
             hell... a fourth song: matutero - exorcist...
i'm no ******* copernicus...
   or a galileo...
                              still: to keep one's mouth clean
is to not utter god: words during the wedding
of "satan" to his shadow...
                                 to keep one's mouth clean
is to not speak during *******,
     *****-stars know the deal...
   tell me what you want, and i will not give it...
don't tell me what i want: and i will surprise you...
even after the act, she said...
'this has only happened to me once'...
when she was paid,
   and didn't expect to reach ******...
                    2nd man in...
  1st man with a hydra in his mouth for paying
an extra 10 quid to perform oral ***
on a *******...
                      good... evil...
well: good is as good as it gets,
but good can also imply: the purity of evil...
evil of the highest quality is in a position
to move down an incremental path toward
good: as spectator...
       as a tease of what is itching the incremental
path toward evil: the omniscient, omnipotent etc.
god...
      oh sure... night sky *******, romance my this
that and whatever *** looks more like:
pork chop cleopatra meets
   cherry 16 tight trim of milk and quicksilver
reflection teasing...
                      you'd be gagging for the goosebumps
and the prickled tiny hairs... performing...
what plant-speciments do with their...
   phototropism...
                                    against all: stereotypes...
            this, lunar base of imagining, not otherwise.
so this is to be my antithesis Golgotha?
for who stands on Har Megiddo
certainly not the skull-baron of the crucifixion...
   blitzkrieg imagery: and suddenly...
   the words... become...
   s               a
h             r                                       l
                   p                   e
                           n      
simply?
      for the supposed foul language used
as barrier between flow and conjunction
necessity... a rhetorical tool of the modern use
of language: no one is standing in any
oratory pulpit speaking to the "masses"...
      but... if i could invent an inverted niqab
for the tongues of christians during ***?
reduce them to moans, groans,
exfoliations of an onomatopoeia...
               less daddy please, who's the naughty boy
*****-***** *** tantrums of:
having ****** so much, the next ****
acts like an anaesthetic to numb what's already
become a numbed pain / pleasure non-differential...
well!
                like i really might need to venture
into the dark-web...
   i'll just bring myself to the party on the "safe" web...
and some poo'em i wrote once,
which doesn't even compliment what i just,
just now: pulled out from my bowels...
again: there's zero-net-worth of feeling in the heart...
emotions? bowels...
   the heart is too preoccupied with rhythm...
akin to how:
    the brain was a metaphor for the soul,
even though the soul is a sigma,
of all known organs and its preoccupation with them,
or not...
    given the current explanation of the brain?
coordination and what not?
evidently the soul is, equivalent to a metaphysical
and biological definition of an *****,
given: the brain doesn't entertain the existence
of thought...
       so... if the brain is not responsible for
thinking, then nothing else in the body is...
                  so soul, or the sigma "conundrum" /
is a metaphysical *****, or whatever you want it to be...
brain = fatty sponge... that can die...
when attacked by killer proteins in the light
of Alzheimer's... like a sort of inverted anorexia...
weird... starvation? fat goes first,
then the carbohydrates... no, wait...
carbohydrates first, fats second...
and then... proteins cannibalise themselves...
that's starvation... in Alzheimer's?
the proteins attack the brain sponge-fatty-blob...
so the brain is not involved in thinking...
so... well, mein gott: god i guess...
   some external source of "inspiration"...
motivation, will... oddly enough?
that coincides with both the + and the - of
such a source of thinking...
             both sides: theistic and atheistic have it
covered... right now? chosing the middle ground
is the only sensible posit to succumb to...

what's the difference between
a polyamorous society
and a polygamous society?
  well... there's not much
of a difference...
   i've been a subject to the former,
and the "covert" latter...
suddenly prostitutes are
above priests and psychiatrists...
well...
  either being sold the body,
or being bribed with
prayer or the pharmacological cocktail...
only because:
i was...
         "being uncomfortable"
for the rest of society...
    polyamorous societies
descend into make-shift
polygamous societies...
             the whole incel problem...
that's really representative
of a polygamous society....
  20% of men get 80%...
    sure... lesbian frolicking
in a harem,
    strap-on-******...
     and eunuchs are missing...
but...
akin to a manic street preachers'
song:
   the walking abortions...
   in all honesty...
the top-down influence
of a polygamous society has crept in
and created
the polyamorous society buffer zone,
so shy right up to now,
but:
before the **** hits the fan
   waiting game...
and how much
of the madonna-***** complex
is currently true,
and how much of ******* dysfunction
is due to...
  being pulverißed
by overtly sexualißed material
exposure?
                 hell...
  if i'm always going to be stitched
into a frankenstein hard-on
potential...
when it comes to the actual deed?
why wouldn't the answer suffice
mostly associated with a *******
and not a woman on her third date?
because i'm pretty sure
that erectile dysfunction isn't
a problem with my experience
of prostitutes...
    but it is... with "free" women...
given that i'm no psychopath...
  and when *** is staged,
it follows that there's a case for relationship,
intimacy...
           a ******* hard-on
is an objective fact...
which is why prostitutes rarely
fail to "conjure" it...
         the violence is simmering...
it's... titillating, nibbling at the toes
of Venus like some
sado-******* fetishist...
        **** me...
   the nazis dropped less bombs
on London via the world war I
zeppelin raids than
how many ****** insinuations
leave me quasi-limp-**** / ******...
   well... not so much ******...
***** just keep bulging with
goosebumps,
   i sometimes forget the ******...
which isn't even associated with
the actual *******...
   it's neurologically associated
with tingling sensation
            of the shaft...
    ***** has nothing to do with it...
    should have asked
me when i was 8...
                  "self-harm",
or...
                 what others rarely see...
no wonder i gravitated to
reading marquis de sade in my early teens...
but like chuck rhodes
said in billions...
             truth...
            if it's not comfortable,
and if its not a wager...
a shadow compensation...
  if its not the intellectuals'
demise of truth being treated
  as a fluctuation,
  a perpetual change,
   bias one minute,
        critique another,
                         a noumenon,
                                  then... what is it?

oh i'm pretty sure
that the current society,
the current:
polyamorous society
is a direct consequence
of a polygamous society's influence...

i don't even want to begin thinking
that man,
was the pinnacle of all lifeforms
on earth...
   notably in this region of "debate"...
because there's no "debate"...
is there?
     not with the elevated mating
norms of... say...
swans... how you actually can...
find widows and widowers
in the swan populace...

          with man having evolved
from monkey:
  well no surprises...
swans have devolved from
dinosaurs...
   the feathers are the fake...
but like lizards...
  born from an egg...
no?
                 swans understand
monogamy...
           humans?
    not so much...
         well... if you're lucky...

but i'm pretty sure:
oh i'm pretty sure
that the current society,
the current:
polyamorous society
is a direct consequence
of a polygamous society's influence...

am i, bothered?
clue me in...
    revolting *****' song: *****...
could a **** ****
a ****...
         without a strap-on?

"Commitment issues"
Commitment: a designated set of time
Issues: problems

So I cannot, successfully,
Designate an "appropriate" amount of time
To a relationship
Is that right?

Keep in mind,
These women enter my life
And I tell them I don't believe in marriage
And they say "that's ok"
Until it's not.

Maybe it's a comment I made
Or maybe they forgot
But something changes over time
And I am not an object
I am not some possession
That people can lay claims to
I am a human
With ever-changing needs and desires
With thoughts and feelings
And my own perception of reality

So maybe I get anxious when people
Try to put some hold on me
You chalk it up to commitment issues
What if I just don't like feeling owned?
What if I simply refuse
To let anyone remove my autonomy?

And what's even wrong with that?
Who gets to decide what is an
"Appropriate" amount of time?
Oh, wait,
That's "forever" right?
Says who?
Why should I continue to chase this
Socially-constructed dream
Of spending my entire life with one person
If that's not what makes me happy?

Trust me, I've tried for a long time
And I could never seem to find
A singular being
Who I'd willingly spend eternity with
If that even exists
And until this point
I've been unhappy most of my life
Reflecting on my failed attempts at
Happy monogamy

I am finally happy now
Free love is beautiful
It has liberated my soul
It has liberated my love
And my sense of self
For once I feel happy most days
I am focusing on myself now
Instead of pouring everything into another
I'm growing more everyday
And learning more about who I am

But you just brush that off
Saying my polyamorous identification
Is a manifestation
Of some fear of commitment
It couldn't possibly be the real me
It couldn't possibly be the way I feel happiest
Because it's not the "normal" way to desire?
It's not the logical form of love?
Or it's just different
Or it's just new
And you rejecting it within me
Means you aren't accepting me for who I am
In this moment

If that's the case
Then I don't know who you're in love with
Because this is who I am
Whether you like it
Or disagree with it
Or not
This is who I am
And I'm so over
Trying to validate
Justify
And explain myself
Just because someone disagrees with my form of loving

"Greedy girl," they whisper
For two was not enough.
I am not whole, with one more soul
I need two to give my trust.

Lovely trio of mine
I couldn't wish for more
Yet they call me a freak, "Love's for two, not three!"
They mutter that I'm a *****.

I'm not jealous or undecided
I'm not cheating and it's not abuse
Just because you've never doesn't mean three isn't better
For one who is not confused.

"Perhaps this is a phase,"
"No-one in their right mind would wish
For three or for four, how about two, who needs more?"
They all think just like this.

But I am polyamorous
My partners are in the plural
And we love equally, it doesn't matter that we're three
Our relationship breaks no ethic or moral.

So judge as you will
Judge as you please
I am proud of my *** and sexualities
And it's polyamory for me.

Dear Bri,

My therapist asked me if
I thought I should
Write you a letter for closure
I was confused and said no
I was done with us
Over it
That was a few months ago
I can see now
What she might have seen then
I am carrying a lot of anger
A lot of pain and resentment
Because of the way you treated me
And how victimized you painted yourself
As you shamed me publicly
All over social media
For "cheating" on you when
We definitely have different understandings
Of what constitutes cheating
And then you took it a step further
To spread your delusions about me
When we could've had a conversation

You shamed me so hard at the end
Because "you didn't even know me anymore"
When you clearly didn't know me at all
I told you when we first met
I do not want kids and
I never want to get married
And you were surprised
After year and a half
When you bring it up
And I tell you again
I do not want that life
You cried and said we would be nothing then
So I bought you a ring
I figured, whatever
If we were going to be forever
I might as will compromise
Something you didn't understand much at all
Especially when it came to ***

After we broke up
You wrote me a letter
In it you attacked me for
Never having *** when you wanted
Since you'd have it with me
When you didn't want to
(Something I was very unaware of
And extremely not ok with)
Apparently I should've done the same
But I didn't want *** if you didn't
I could've ******* myself if that were the case
I didn't ask you to do that for me
I wish you didn't
Because love isn't about *** frequency
It's more about communication
And honesty
And I'm not perfect at that
But I tried

When I sent you an article
About why I avoid ***
Due to a ****** assault
You got mad at me
"What am I supposed to do,
Just wait until you're ready?"
Yes.
If you respected me
Then you would

And when I talked to you about
My interest in polyamory
You didn't give me a chance
To even discuss it more
You immediately said no
And that was that
You said you wouldn't change your mind
Which I should have known since
When I became friends with
A member of the church do you dragged me to
(Even though I'm an atheist)
You were mad because they were poly
And you didn't want me "getting any ideas"
And when that approach didn't work
You claimed that my being friends with them
Conflicted with your friendship with another member
Because they were connected negatively through an ex
Because we can't have our own friends?

But that's exactly what I needed
Because you shamed me so hard
For the things I care about most
That I lost myself in us
I no longer existed
Because I was "too radical"

So you didn't really love me
Because you didn't know me
You loved who you made me
Or whoever you saw in your mind
And somehow you were surprised
When I decided to leave
Because of course you did nothing wrong
But I was suffocating
So I left to explore myself
And my potential polyamorous identity

But then you were willing to try it
You didn't want to lose me
So you said you'd try an open relationship
But
Only under strict guidelines
And if I didn't agree to them
You wouldn't try
You called it "compromise"
But there's a huge difference
Between boundaries
And rules
That's not how polyamory thrives
So I left.

And a few months later
We talked about it again
You gave me more rules
"No other romantic partners "
Which would've required me
To leave who I was presently seeing
Just to have *** with randoms
And commit emotionally
Only to you
But I also had to agree
To eventually move up north with you
Regardless of my own life aspirations
Because I never really mattered to you
Only the fake picture you had of me

And all of those rules
Occurred while you simultaneously
Shamed polyamory
And me for wanting it
Because "I just didn't want to commit"
It is "an abomination"
"Disgusting"
Just because you didn't understand it
Because you were afraid of it

You didn't understand me
But you "loved" me
And you were the victim
Right?
I'm not saying I'm not at fault
But you are too

31/12/2022

It’s the last day of the year, and I’ve had one extra depressive episode
because a 21 year old noped out, apparently I’m demiromantic
and have never had a crush
need a strong connection, when it’s there – it’s nothing
to reckon with, had I known
I’d have put more space between us, taken it slower
rather than convincing myself I have control, as it slips

I’m leaving another lover, wretched with stench
I look at their face in old pictures, becoming
afraid at their void expression, beard
they refuse to trim for me
so I daydream and I know
like, I know now, with therapy that

there is no magical himbo to save me,
no delusions about that, no boo, no more
but I also know I deserve some ******* comfort
after the hell, oh the hell
I can’t broach, if I **** it will burst
like a yolk, I’ll be dead by morning, oh and

he’s so beautiful
his eyes on me, his cautious fingers, fear and shudders
makes me feel like my best was not just good enough
my best was fascinating.
I want to tell him about my songs, mixing in studio 1
I wanna duet, and melt,
I want him on his knees at random words, I want
that worship, wanna feel
his piercing on my
everything,
want to give that worship
not just in a word document,
so I daydream, I get to.
I ******* get to if I need it, daydream about
whichever thing will never happen if I need it.

I will not be shamed for surviving
I will not be blinded to an oasis for the chance
it’s a mirage, I need to
get from place to place, boo
What shall I do as I heal? Drink? Drugs? ******* cigarettes?
did you know the internet says I’ll die at 67?
Little more than half now
my life is not shortened by zoning out -
If I want a muse I will have a ******* muse, and he can think
I’m crazy along with the rest of them,
****
if
I
care,  
I want him to come here.
                                    I want to ask him questions, reasonable questions
because I know I would:
                                                          ­             is this an impulsive decision?
have you broken up?
                                                                ­                               how long ago?
are you in therapy?
                                            I am **** demisexual,
                                                  even in my mind,
                                              especially in my mind
Do       you      want      me      or      do       you       want      polyamory?
Because I can be anyone, and I have already been
                                                         an experiment for some guy, ‘fore he  
                                                            gets­ a bi curious, monogamous girl
Because we can grow alongside one another, but not fix
each other
because you need to process
because if you’re with her, she wouldn’t have a reason other than “my boyfriend really wants to” and that is the worst reason for polyamory, and I am not nor have ever been in the business of hurting people with intent (excluding  grade school, ((I’m
sorry, Martina – double sorry you died from
leukemia,) excluding when you c o n s e n t )),  
I’d like you to answer all of those, then
maybe I get to hold you.

That’s my daydream. Holding you. Watching films, you commenting on them the way I’ve done and annoyed all of my lovers.

how your neck would smell

                                      how your hair and head would feel in my hands

how you’d shiver and breathe shallow, and how easily
I could make it calm.  

and yeah, subspacing you and using your body, I am not entirely ace.

During my Childhood.
a New Hampshire father of twin boys named Joe taught me that friendship, love, and respect,
meant wrestling.
He was a burly man
with glasses and a salt and pepper beard
Who loved guitar hero, dunkin' doughnuts and Motorcycles.
One day joking to his adult friends I heard:
"I'm a lesbian trapped in a mans body"

Now, Joe did not mean this the way
we think of it in this community.
He was not transgendered.
probablly didn't even know they exist.
He was simply saying.
"I have an attraction to girls who will never love me, because I have a *****,
and Isn't that tragic enough for a punchline?"
Though a young boy,
I identified with that.

In middle school, the media convinced me
that gay boys were getting all the ladies.
So I needed everyone to know I was gay.
that way, they'd be my friends,
and get naked in front of me.
It worked.
However, I still could not get a girlfriend.
And I did not want a boyfriend.
because again, It was all a 10 year old me's
Con just to see girls undress.

A year or two goes by
being gay
To get a girlfriend.
when on the television:
I see Tila Tequila.
A bisexual Bachelorette reality Show.

Wait! I said to my mother.
"I CAN LIKE BOTH?"
"Sure you can! I do.
This one time, aunt spider and I"
"Mom! That's enough."

So in my living room,
Surrounded by fold-out tables
And chicken parmesisan
I pronounced myself bisexual.

I had the best of both worlds! I could watch girls undress, AND have a girlfriend.
This was not relevant however, for a while.
As I still had not developed social skills.

Enter highschool awkward bisexual boy.
I'd never actually been attracted to a man before...
But I wasn't ruling it out.
zero percent of the woman I fell for seemed to like men,
Or more accurately, me.
I was resonating closer to the
"Lesbian trapped in a mans body"
line then ever before.
I probablly asked out every female senior, every girl I grew up with.
every girl who looked at me, to go on a date.
All to be turned down.
Except one.
I entered college with a monogamous Long-term relationship raising A beautiful Nerd girl's daughter.
Seemed like I had it made.
Young parents.
Both bisexual.
Together we flushed out Every kink and curvature of what pleasured us.
Then two years later.
My grandmother died,
I lost my job of four years,
She left me,
taking our daughter with her.
Devastated, I turned to the most destructive of known vices.
Tinder.

I went on first and last date after parking lot hookup after rooftop romance with these girls.
Writing poetry all the while to document my stresses.
I was no longer "A lesbian trapped in a mans body."
If anything, I was a lesbian
Thriving! In a mans body.

This came up at a party once
We were playing rockband when I said it.
A woman spoke up:
"You're devalueing the phrase for transgendered woman who use it!
It's dissrepectfull."
When I tried to explain myself:
That it helped me rationalize
years of rejection
laugh at my own failure.
Build the foundation
for my optimistic attitude
By saying it's not me.
I just like lesbians.
it made my failures a predictable Punchline.

But I was weak.
They convinced me.
I stopped identifying as
"A lesbian thriving in a mans body."
from then on, I was a man.

Years have passed and I've given a lot of love to a lot of people.
Learned a lot about my preferences
Sexually, romantically, personally.

At the momment:
I am a:
Hetero flexible
Polyamorous
Male.

But deep down I know.
Even though I'll never say it.
Because it isn't really true.
Or maybe because it's offensive.
Or maybe because i'm scared.
I'll always be a lesbian
Thriving as a man.

Thank you for Matching the Tinder Call Center. My name is Nick and I will be helping you with your order today. And your name is?

Hi, (Tinder Match). I'm so glad you called because you do qualify as one of the first 100 people I find attractive!
So Where are you from?

Oh Wow, I've never been there, you ever Been to Portland Maine?

No? Well look at that, I guess we've never been too each others places before.
Haha.
Looks like we have something in common.

What was it on my profile that got you interested in swiping right?
Oh I see, you liked the beard and
my addiction to Netflix.

How long have you been interested in that?
Wow that's a long time.
you really enjoyed the Office.

What else have you tried to build a good relationship?
Yeah, that must be frustrating.
They seem like a real bad guy.

What's the worst part about dealing with that?
I see, that must be really hard.

Tell me a little bit about why it's so important for you to do something about this now; it's a little different for everyone.

I see, you can't love anymore because he broke your heart.
You don't want anything serious right now.

Do you prefer coffee or tea?
you're right, Yerba Mate is fantastic with maple syrup.

What's your favorite meal of the day?
Yeah, breakfast is amazing.

What kind of music do you like?
Twenty One Pilots saved your life? that's Unbelievable.

what does your bedroom look like?
Covered in artwork and paper lanerns?

You know, (tinder match). I can't wait for you to start seeing me, and feeling Happy.

As my profile states,
I am a Geeky, Confident, Charismatic Optimist who likes to wake up next to people, Watch Netflix, and sing to himself almost always.
And that sounds great doesn't it?

Just imagine how wonderful it will feel when you're able to Sit down in Dobra tea. Pass back and fourth our Yerbe Matte Ahumado.
Then go belt out lyrics to Twenty One Pilots in my car on the way back to your place,
have amazing *** under your paper lanterns and wake up the next day to me making you breakfast.
And THAT'S really why you swiped right today, isn't it (Tinder match)?

Excellent! Let's get you started!

As you heard, I've put together a Special Date, with the free Tea. A serenade and car ride. And an extra free second date when you try this First One for just your body. Plus, since you're one of the people I find attractive, I'm gonna throw in a Third date. so you get three, for the price of one! And remember that dating me is risk-free because it's backed by my 30-day Text you back guarentee.
So what's the best number I can reach you at?

I understand your hesitation, (tinder match). When we first started talking you had said you'd been dealing with bad relationships for a long time right? Once you start seeing me you'll see an increase in happiness within the first two dates. And if you never have to worry about being sad again, you'd say it was worth trying wouldn't you?
Right! So what's your snapchat username?

Perfect, and your Cell phone number?
Alright, and a day you're free?
And what's a good time to meet?

Awesome, okay (Tinder Match). And I'm also told to inform you of our special super saver package today. You'll get to go out on a date with me, and my friend Sally for the same low price of just your body. Imagine what it'd be like experiencing the both of us at the same time! Scientists have proven that polyamorous relationships are more happy, more healthy, and result in less overall stress. Which is really what you're looking for isn't it?

Great so I'll just have her tag along alright?

Perfect.
Thank you very much and just to confirm, I'll see you on Wednesday at 12:00pm at Dobra Tea, alright?
Alright have a nice day (Tinder Match.)
Buh bye.

Commitment issues
This again?
Yes but this time these are my words
Not the labels thrown at me by exes
Like arrows attempting to pierce me into place
I thought it was meant to trap me
But I think they just wanted me to stop
To think
To really evaluate myself
To see the truth
Im afraid of commitment.

When I've been told this in the past
I read it with the understanding that
Commitment issues meant I
Just couldn't have or didn't want a relationship
And that just couldn't be true
I mean just check my track record

No, see
My having commitment issues
Is rooted deeply within my past
These problems originate in an exciting mix of
Trust issues
Abandonment issues
And a variety of other traumas

I am not afraid to enter relationships
And I do not avoid love
Actually, I am obsessed with finding love
With being loved
All the while trying to love another
Thinking I'm succeeding
While subtly sabotaging myself in the process

When I was small
I did not receive the respect and care
Needed to show I was loved
Though my parent said they cared
They didn't protect me the way they should have
I had to take care of myself
Look out for myself
Because I was the only one I could trust

Anytime I got close to someone
They'd either decide to leave
Or get ripped away by outside forces
I was alone a lot
And not great at making friends
With the abuse happening at one house
And some solace found at the other
I was constantly fluctuating between
Hellhole and liberation
All while trying to have a childhood
And survive adolescence

So when they say I have commitment issues
They're probably right
But not for the reasons they think
Not because I'm polyamorous
Not because I don't want to commit
Not because I don't love and
Not because of who I am as a person
My issues come from a long line of
Different abuses by people who
Were supposed to protect me
But didn't

So if you think to judge me
For the trouble I have with trusting you
And trusting you won't hurt me
Or decide to leave when I'm "too much"
Understand that I did not choose to be like this
I didn't choose the pain that led me to love
In such a haphazard way

But I am choosing to do something about it

Polyamorous vegans
Living in a colony
Away from a world
That shares too much
Meat
And not enough
Food for thought.
Their squat squalid
Their garden flourished.

Polyamorous triangles float
past galaxies,
across time (da da da)
like some untangled thread,
each strand pulled infinitely
thin.
I think someone said:
we are as much as we try to be,
maybe;
but nothing more.

Triangles trying [to be]
squares, but missing the point –
lost associations, lost
between skull curves and
carbon ***** of tongue
spit (dee dee dee)
flipping bubbles through
air;
singing metal ***-lid banter
and clapping pavement with
rubber footprints;
existing in evanescence to the eye,
quicker, quicker, quicker, you see (la la la)
like time here on a ball
with defined surface area
always moving with each
sneeze and wind breeze.

Rock rocking
like nothing at all
while earthly bodies with
destructive ease never pause to ponder
the grandeur of bland neoteric needs;
god-fearing carbon pumping
earth, exploding earth and
******* in the hot air.

Shaped to fear some carbonic idea;
too geometric to care (da dee la).