“You’re the shrink wrap on my string cheese,“

he said from his knees, to no one in particular,

incorporating slanguage under the horns, but

over the bass, knowing what disco turned into.

I meet a lot of people
Who talk about the books they read
Mentioning titles that impress me
Praising authors beyond my degraded tastes

Yet I never run into these avid readers
At the bookstore I frequent
At the library branch I visit once a week
Hoping nonetheless

For that meeting cute
When I cinematically place my hand
on that book I've been eager to read
And she puts her hand above mine

And I say Go on -- you check it out
I'll get it when you're finished
Even though I know and she knows
That she plans to never return it

I’m sorry I can’t be your man baby although you think of me daily
Sending messages to my phone saying how much you love me crazy
We used to speak every day but now I call you sporadically
Just to see how you’ve been doing or to create love cinematically
I tell you not to fall for me when a part of me only wants to lay with you
Kiss you from head to toe right before I get up & proceed to leaving you
I’m expecting you to tell me that you’re done with the mind games
Done with the ***** calling & acting like I have no shame
You always tell me to live my life but to keep my privates on a leash
Cause to you, it’s all yours & you’d rather not share the heat
You tell me that deep down, I only wanna hit it when I’m lonely but I agree
Cause I’m not ready to settle for love which is why I can’t let you love me
*** became easier to find but only when the bond is strong
And sexing you is what I’ll never leave cause it’s where my temporary attachment belongs
I keep telling myself that it’s not all about the *** between us but what else is there?
For us to conquer when it’s clear that the love we want isn’t meant to be shared?
I know I’m wrong for loving you this way but my ego won’t let me let go
Knowing that once I find what I need, I’ll be forced to let you go
The truth within it all is that I can’t be your man & I can’t be seen with you
I’m only supposed to come through whenever we miss each other to make love to you
No strings attached but someway somehow, you’ve grown to fall in love with me
Ignoring the fact that you’ll never be the one to be with me
My only objective was to please you like I’m supposed to then pull off
But here we mixed in confusion of mixed signals but still I can’t even cut you off

Sea-blue octopuses squirt black ink like yellow *** when ******* &
snakes & kittens warn larger aggressors with a defensive hissing as
it's cute for William Holden & Nancy Kwan to practice kissing, but
in Oriental films: heroic, white Europeans are dismissively missing
while no Chinaman sees white actors as cinematically fundemental
nor darkies either as bakery cakes incinerate a need for fudge rental
even ***** too once cakery bakes fry amore for a syndromic Yentyl
& 747 plastic noses ramming W.T.C. I-beams couldn't budge metal
affirm acclaimed, structural-design judges adjudged nonjudgmental
by New York City's constitutionalists constituted nongrudgemental
in the scope o' things what come my way with pig-ease incremental
by swinish sons-of-******* who gorge at hog troughs governmental
& drink the blood of sacrificial babes as a Luciferian rite incidental