A sloppy connection made through dry sockets
Man-child trembles at his capabilities
Poor thing, my charge
A fifth of *** and a bit of battery acid
So true
A false wall that keeps the roaches in
Volunteer for a bit of community service
I serve, teach, and protect (frail ego systems)
I serve it up spiced and garnished
Cut up neatly with uniform premeditated precision
Little bite-sized baby food morsels for his mouth
So easy to chew
So true
So easy to swallow

The boy, lewd rude lust thrusting
(Drag in his line, correct its arc, and begin again, slower now)
Poor thing
The spotlight making his naked man-machine
Glow surreal satellite white, overexposed;
Pour viscous shadows into every exquisite crevice
In repose, underexposed
He begins to decipher my light projection
I put it to my lips…
My motive *****

Poor thing, always at a lack
Pretty vacant boy bomb
(Sigh…just lie still life)
Just one of the boys
Just one of the luscious little wind-up toys
Just another pound pounding of flesh
(Fact: humans are mostly dark meat)
He passes out before I can do any real damage

Superimposed, film the oily residue cell by cell
It is my body, oh yes
My doppelgänger dictates the disease
(White sound waves will wash my body
Clean to a distant, lonely shore)
Dip me in saliva
I come up gilded, salt streaks straps stinging
So true
I am sick of the flaming hoop trick
I am sick of his radiant Vegas platform
(Sick of trying tying a knot in this cherry stem)
Ambivalence a smeared lipstick stain from yesterday
My thoughts are exactly 21.5 miles away
Just once
I want something pure