Dreams are polka dotted at Walmart they say.
And though this is true they do not taste sweet but
Acidic like those
Models plastic like
Paris's **** you
Know what I mean the
Stringy ******* and diet
Coke **** diet
Coke and oil in bottles we are no machines whatever
Happened to green leaves and sun burned skin our
Words and tattooed bones when
Did we become dumpsters dressed in
Black
Or silk chemically nourished and fashionably
Stern **** fashion and
You too your
Oversized coat and
Brainwashed **** we
Need to start dreaming of
Creations in the night in
Every string of hair and
treacherous stem I hate
Bleached hair and red lips more than I
Hate Bloomberg
Oh ***** my smoked breath
I’m lying again and
So is he and
You and
Those polka dotted dreams.