Air induces nausea,
hearing spills blood,
sight activates disgust;
this world, it’s just a boil
polluted by megalomaniacal pus.

Sensations unsought,
significance rejected
like a bag of bones
flung in the dumpster
beaten down to thrown stones.

Just close your eyes,
feed on their thoughts,
tighten the collar,
and grind your teeth
into that withering dollar.

Preach the way to live;
how much more should we give?

This sermon fed on lies will be behind your demise;
a loss to the reprise of fading disputes,
uniforms and suits dragging us away
from our dreamt pursuits.

Pulling up buried roots, yet still convert new recruits.
It makes sense naught, perhaps I’m dense,
or better yet, you simply recoil in defense
at the wrongs humans allow to commence,
but there’s a slip on your grip of suspense
for the boredom is so **** immense
and still in rolls the chunked cents
with our thoughts as expense.

Proclaiming yourself lyrical, it’s hysterical;
in truth, you’re nothing more than satirical
of an industrial percent you so vainly represent,
******* about those you resent with a dubbed accent;
you’re long past the extent of accepted discontent;
**** on your consent to understand torment.

Now dig deep into your thesaurus;
again, it’s time for that written chorus,
day through day saying the same old thing,
Benjamin controlling you by a string;
to the table nothing new you bring,
just over and over again ******* us
with your pseudo-cynical sting.

Hypnotic brown eyes, a lovely smile
Watch you strut over, exquisite style
Ethereal odor, arms ‘round your hips
Faces entwined, an attachment of lips

Roaming hands, a ripping of attire
Tumble to the floor, burning the fire
A series of licks, which only persist
Companied by a squeeze, a little twist

Pursue the descent, wet the hot trail
Take a little bite, swallow every detail
Like a puzzle piece, between your thighs
I taste your flesh, vision past the skies

Tongue rolls out, digs into your treasure
You arch forward, moaning of pleasure
Hunger quenched, a rapturous delight
Our souls are one, such a perfect night

I may never have you
But at least I know you’re there
With the slightest possibility
Helping to muffle fear

I may not know your scent
But I know I’d know it
If I could only pick it up

I see you from afar
You smile, you wave
Tell me to set sail
But I lack a boat
And the skill to swim
In these rumored travels
One foot drowns the other
As they forget to say

Drench my lungs
As I weaken in your core
If only I could have
Just a little more
Of your time

You may not be real
But I’m not sure I care
As we’re thrown against
Waves of nowhere

You’re real enough for me
Even if you remain
On opposite sides of circling beasts
I can still imagine your hair
Blowing with the rhythm
Your eyes shining with the moon
Your feet in the sand
The water inches from land

I can hear you call out
Even from far away
Your voice will always
Be clear as day
So I call back

Reaching you as you reach me
Our echoes hold hands
In this swirling deep

O’ sea lips,
If only I could kiss
The salt in your wind
Life would be just

O’ sea lips,
Evil must feed
Patience is our  key
To defeat its greed
And we will laugh
At the pity it pleads
For we have—
—and always will
Succeed

O’ sweet sea lips,
Breathe into me
And I will never breathe you out

There’s never enough time (yet we’re counting cracks)
There’s never an honest line (spat through yellow teeth)
There’s never a clever rhyme (though we’re all geniuses)

Sometimes we’re sick of it (that is, when we think of it)
Balled up fists (nostrils inflamed by ****)
Plug me in to your escape
Charge this battery so it’s fit to last
Inject me with a reality where this is no past

A blank page, for a dead pen
A pretty cover (illustrated by a pretty color)
Flip fast; ignore the digits
Until, alas, we’ve reached the end

(but how did it start?)

Details forgotten; ****** lacking purpose
And we’re left with a spine that snaps
Decayed oak fluttering to linoleum
Bleeding dry ink (cannot refill)
Consumed by second thoughts

(but was there a first?)

Distorted lips agape
(cannot tell
top(?)
from    
bottom(?))

Wrinkles circling bloodshot eyes

(parentheses for what others see and others don’t)

And then we fade away
Drowned in transgressing whiteout

(but where is our epilogue?)

[and therefore, our sequel?]

Welcome to
             Dreamland,
where
            even
the windows
      are
inside out.

I see you there
across the way
with that
       hideous sneer,
and I won’t become
          aware
(until it’s too late)
  of this nightmare.

Too busy lost
in your form.
Seems unreal
but at the same time,
more real
than I’ll ever know.

Are you
      what I fear?
Are you
      an altered image?
                        or a naked truth?

a substitution issued
   by my
      subconscious?

or an unveiled vision
of what I’m too blind
                    to see?

Before I can give it
        anymore thought,
the words leave your
        edited lips
and pierce my chest
like a double-sided blade
of Loki’s caress.

Words escape me
as I gasp
           for breath,
a problem you don’t have
as you progress
           my death.

With that sneer,
                 you twist,
   molding a fracture
useless to fix.

And then eyes open,
I am awake,
infected by a cold sweat
and a contagious case
                      

                       of longing.

My blue shoes skidded against the pavement
as I broke at a dead stop.

Sweat dripping from my brow
and stinging my eyes,
I peered forward at the deer
standing there a hundred feet away
blocking my path, her head faced
the other way, looking at
God knows what, perhaps God
Himself.

I started to edge forward,
my tired feet flintstoning the bike.
I held my breath, but I could not
control my heart as it pounded harder
against my chest with each inch
I crept.

But I did not get close enough,
for a neglected chain on my precious bike
gracefully slit silence’s throat,
allowing its blood to contaminate
the air within.

The deer fled back to her home,
leaving me alone to ponder
what could have been.

And I know if only I’d had
the opportunity
to stroke my hand
along its mischievous fur,
that would have been
the greatest day
of my life,

even if
I lost my fingers
as a result.