******* on the lozenge of illogical orbit, we whirl like intergalactic pinwheels.
Metamorphosed , we are Martians—caring not for mortal notions.

Celestial beings with curt dispositions,
Making men the cynics that they are.
For that which exists is doomed to be doubted.

So it seems our duet is the demise of devout humanity, my dear.
Us, in artless cotton blankets,
Inhaling the infectious essence of
Eros.

Ah, you are anxious today my morbid rule-breaker;
Forever and never sound much the same when your mouth is full of questions.
Our lives were once dull and sober, now we’re littered crooked bastions,
But no such fairy-tales are ever uttered to an unconvincing faker.

You’re a groovy tomato dancin’ with loose-tongued disco fries.
Chillin’ in limbo, sippin’ on sangria, and eatin’ on my pride.
Racin’ on a superhighway with scorchin’ thumbs and eloquent lies,
But my guts are wrenchin’ and my eyelashes are flashin’, much to your surmise.
I drank your love like a dino, now I’m bringin’ out your prehistoric side.
Baby, I can run your city with a stogie and a ****** dancin’ in disguise,
But this ****, it don’t mean nothin’, or at least not what you’ve implied.

Solitude may be a gift to any less than lucid mind--
A morning drug to purge my thoughts from restless night,
And a nighttime pill to slow the daytime grind.
But alas, here I sit alone, overwrought in isolation’s plight--
For the more I sit alone, the more my qualms take flight.