I like to run my fingertips
Through the sweat
On a new lover's back

I am a child
Finger painting
In your filthy labor

Bukowski's lovers
Liked to squeeze his blackheads
And write him letters

Boys from California
Aren't afraid to moan
During a good ****

I taste the sweat
With my fingers

You did such a good job

Down you sent me,
Down into that
R
  A
  B
   B
     I
       T
       H
          O
             L
                E
Of ecstasy
Without contraband

We only want to feel alive

To have our hearts race menacingly

To burn with delirious abandon

And that

Is where

I found

You

But how I loved you

I loved you with the heat
And the drive
And the mania
Of a dry brush fire

The loss of life was tragic

Somewhere between
My desperation and my desire
I find you
Infiltrating my dreams
With memories
Of your deadly kisses
You always kissed to ****
And touched to burn
You spoke in order to enchant
Incantations under a full moon
I hear Death moaning
Softly in your song
She lives between your lips
And takes her throne on your tongue
DEATH
As you spoke to me
As you kissed me
As you tasted me
DEATH
Waiting for your command
**** her! **** her and sigh!
"She was always so interesting
She was always so smart
What a pity, what a shame!"
Your Death is sweet
Like strawberries and Jack
Your Death is rich
Like cranberry sauce with cinnamon
My mouth waters for yours
For your Death
Because she is life!
Your Death is life eternal!
To sleep in the mouth of God
Forever
The boy with Death in his mouth
The boy with the mouth of God
Find restful sleep in the valley
There, in the lower lip
A hushed, soft valley
In which to rest with Death
She will show me her throne
On the tip of the tongue
And slay me there
Before her honey throne
My blood will taste bitter
Dripping from your tongue
But
With all
That
Sweetness


I doubt you'll even notice

I'm breakin' up the band
Again
To pursue a solo career
As my own court jester

So many people
So few friends
Everyone, preoccupied
With nothing

Nothing but themselves
Their stupid lives
Their stupid issues
Their vanities

I grasp at nothing
And try to find
Something
And come up short

Maddening
Sickening
The nature of
All these people

**** 'em all