love
a version of life,
we encounter daily
in the hand holding
couples with locked eyes,
if should one ask, it be the chief
characteristic of this thing called lov,
is its unlimited unlocking nature,
it appears like a horizon,
unlimited, unended, a
line far but close enuf,
it can be touched
even if it’s the
brain confess
close and yet
unreachable

this dichotomy specially prevalent,
everywhere,, an illusion~
delusion, called the
unlimited ubiquitous~

all around us, there for the taking & giving,
a capability installed instilled at birth
to everyone, everywhere, to all,
but like
a key without a hole,
it is always hopeful and
optimistic, a resource
natural spring from
deep within the
earth, always
replenished

it’s an unlimited, ubiquitous thing
should be easy to spot, retrieve and
keep, but the key fits only one
particular lock, and that is so
**** hard to find & fit,
it makes us completely
crazy, non-compliant,
this love thing,
a rarity, and
a major pain
to everyone

*tho in everything,
yet keep on trying
because it is ubiquitous, imagined
to be unlimited, ready ease so imaginable, just over the horizon

At this juncture it would seem
your ubiquitous problems
have become obscene
so
to make all this less operose
delve deep and
find the root and show
that you can stem the flow
at the fountain head
and choose the right
route instead.

the readout simply showed,

    i am the brand name.

it was the ubiquitous, and as

     was i.

production and consumption

     are protected.


i am the being from which the experience is squeezed.

     i am the experience repackaged and sold.

altered by demand, altered again by experience.

     then squeezed, then sold, then squeezed, then sold.


hyperreality affords the assurance of eternal life.

     i am information, in its creation, in

its propagation. the plot has been tossed

     in favor of the house of character,

atlantic, and pacific.

I’ve been roped and doped
Also been ***** and taped.
I’ve been slugged and drugged
I was bugged, then I shrugged.

It is all just another day’s work
For a silly streetwalking ****.
It’s life without a single perk,
Pays less than a checkout clerk.

I keep changes of tight clothes,
Show off the body, anything goes.
Use a languid suggestive pose
No one questions, everyone knows.

Stand by a light pole and grin
Someone will quickly pull in
And ask if you’ll go for a spin
In half a hour, I’m back again.

If they seem to want to pass
Turn around and show some ***
I make sure I show some sass
And am sure to be smoking grass.

Sure I get picked up by the cops
But, this old story never stops.
It’s a tale as old as these shops.
It’s bad when the temperature drops.

Rain, sleet and snow, I’m around
Staking out my piece of ground
To see what trade can be found
Hunting for the everyday hound.

So drop by and see me any day.
I’m not like the sun, I won’t go away.
I’ll be here as you drive by to say:
“Hello, baby, want some fun today?