watch you, whisper to you

i want to touch your body
every inch of your flesh should be categorized in to a file cabinet
to be ordered by sensation and  rhythm

a *****, sweaty affair of taking inventory of the defense of the other team
"what hurts them" "what helps them" "what makes them giggle" "what makes them moan"
i know what it takes to make them moan

its a war out here and every is invited,
to the war of the lost, stepped on, and rejected
against the rainbows, puppies, and ******

i want feel your sculpted dancing legs
i want to lick the death off her skin
carcass her imperfectly perfect body

******* the subject is a delicate process
first, the physical clothes,
then, the emotional barriers
finally, the mental incapability

at the end, you are presented with the most pure human form
a fully **** model of your great white buffalo.

for me....  it the one that got away, she sings in the shower

American city, your roads make me gasp,
Hold my breath with cancerous anxiety.

Your sidewalks,
Ancient ruins of time passed: A failed optimism for Utopian desire:
A house, a yard, a car for every person.

Now derelict, termite infested, but rented.
Chlorinated chemical water runs through rusted, moldy spickets to
Rinse pesticide seasoned vegetables.
And yet they remain so tasteless.

But who cares?
Suburban middle class zombies?
Created with media placed propaganda.
Born and inoculated with DisneypepsiMccocacola ideologies.

Oh Wal-Mart,
how we love your homogenized Chinese products.
Oh America,
how we love your multi-million dollar cathartic films,
They bring my mind to no place and inspire nothing.

Your theme park inspired retail caters to any identity I desire:
I am a professional,
My wallet lined with the best credit cards,
SUV, Hummer, Super boat, designer label, mall bought,
bleached teeth smile, with slick greasy hair style.

I'm cool, I pay for the gas.
Beep your horn, and rev your engine.
We are at war with each other.
Everyone get out of my way: road rage lifestyle: compete or die.

Big screen television dream.
Bought it at Target.

Open my cupboard: Macaroni and Cheese, delicious.
Ambian, Prozac, antibiotic, Listerine.

Collagen bovine beauty:
Manicure, pedicure, dye and wax

Acrylic nails, hair extensions
And silicone sacs.

Oh, American city
How we want to steal your money and **** your blood.
Chop your trees and cement your grass.
American city you are dead.

Paul Manafort
Paul Manafort
You cheated
You contrived
You lied
You spied

All the money you hoard
You hide

The law did it's job
Indictments came down
Smug and sneering
Your lawyers all talked

Now's not the time
for inequality to cry

But while you await your court date
a trial a settlement
will come.

Where would we wait
Would you say?
I think county jail has our name

While Paul Manafort sits
in his mansion house
Waited on by his indentured slaves
Serving him Whole Foods organic eggs
Ambian sleep in satin sheets

The hearings
The trials
Years later.

Inequality in the face of "nobility"
Sings the blues.

Paul Manafort,
he sings in the shower.