lamenting an absence of absolutes
I am standing
        no I am sitting
              no I am laying

with a cold one in hand next to a cold nothing in bed
thinking when was the last time I didn't **** up and get ******
and

**** with others' heads
   instead of just
fixing up my own

I lean against the rail, to hold steady as Royal Gate reins.
I lean eyefucking a stranger, trying to remember the last time I felt a **** rub against my legs.

I lean on unanswered messages and unanswered calls as the sticky *** that holds this ******* social life together doesn't show it's protein background,

and I ******* own ***, trying to forget why it take me a half an hour to rub a half one out

thinking of their names.

thinking

those kids aren't worth it
while I hang up my *******
in the shower

to dry.

Call me Bukshittski

For I am no Vonnegut
For I am no Burroughs
For I am no Kerouac

and I am no good man
I am abusedive, corrosive

and hold all the talent in a rotten teaspoon of a dead, dear friend.

tell me the color of your *******

tell me the length of your ****

tell me the way your **** tastes
and if your legs shake around  my head

tell me if you're circumcised or not

tell me if you like pain

tell me if you're wet

tell me if you're *******

you're *******
you're *******

and I've got my tongue licking like a dagger up your walls, finger scraping
and I've got my legs wrapped around you while I'm rubbing your *****

cosmo never told you how I like the face you make when you say my name

and I'll tell you if
I'll put my tongue where you want
so long as you say my name

Girl
while you
were sitting
shattered
I was
depressed as hell
drinking to death
over being a mirror
for you
for you for your
ego


while I remembered why
I didn't go to therapy
with a case of misanthropy

and a bucket of wine

because of your name on it

remember next time I tuck your hair back
remember next time you tell me

that you want to **** some other girl

Baby,
I'll hang out with the Dharma Bums in the Tropic of Cancer for you
if you'll hold your promise to snort coke off my ****,

while Marvin Gaye tells us how to give it up
while you put your **** in my ***

and we shake our tail feathers to Royal Gate
and the symbols of our names clash

as we whisper our names to each other while I'm bent on the bed
and I say yours as I nibble your ear after.

Baby,
you got a girlfriend.
Why do you have a girl when there are girls like me?

where is the happy ending when it comes to mental illness?

I don't (love) (touch) (be with) you
You are (a terrible person) (boring).

I will heal with (time) (opiates) (*** with others) and it'll be okay, really sir.
I hope (you die) (you go **** yourself) (be well) (think of me) (die in a fire).

You are boring.
G-o-o-d-b-y-e