Catapault me into chaos,
I wish to get a little closer.
Your tainted eyes speak to me.
I wish to get to know you,
just a little bit better.

If I can handle it,
I'll stick around and play.
Too much pain is a killjoy.
If it burns too much,
I'll blow out the fire someday.

Criss-crossdresser,
I'm seduced into your submission.
My identity remains in shambles,
I'll see you on the otherside,
as I walk through this transition.

A possible phase,
or a permanent reside?
I am lost in mindless self indulgence.
If I dance in the rain,
I'll no longer have to hide.

An eternal blue flame,
made of youth and spirit.
Love could only feed the madness.
To remain the same,
is something my mind could never inhabit.

So dance, and dance,
and sing the tunes of duality.
I experiment with composure.
And once I find balance,
my dream will be that much closer

Bust a nut or stick a ***** up your ****.
Bang an aging clown crossdresser.
Nibble on my ear just like mike tyson.

**** a mean **** for only three bucks.
Eat ***** and sweet *****  out like ice-cream,
and make all the girlies scream.

Drive your car while naked in a sheep ******.
Do coke up an aging *****’s brown crack.
Give strangers hand-jobs to just say hello.
     Or at least give me some ****.

Fall in love with a ****** and sail the world.
Eat your own *** like a vegan smoothie.
Gamble about sporting events fifty years ago.
    Wrap your **** up in a blender.
    
         But always,
enjoy the downfall while it lasts…..
Now where’s my pay check you *****?

anesthetized courtesy central air

analogous to gulping down
a tall glass of ice cold water,
which equals ultimate thirst quencher,
especially for those
experiencing onset dehydration,
the following poetic opinion/editorial  
shared by yours truly, a former consumer
who quaffed truckloads sugary and sports drinks
found mine once sculpted baby boomer body
undergoing gender reorientation, particularly
nondescript ******* incrementally found

busting (rivaling ******* bunny chest)
necessitated this garden variety
NON GMO gluten free husband
"papa," an endearment
addressed by the missus
puzzled when her
brassieres went missing
loathe to believe what sounded
like **** and bull story
embarrassed, yet finally
relented into pestiferous

inquisitiveness hen pecking wife,
she stood agape, after I dare bare
unclothed upper torso revealed
floppy, limp biscuit sagging
sorry excuse for *****
hence necessitating yours truly
to resort as partial crossdresser,
yet never foreseeing
anatomical morphology transforming
(analogous to mushroom popping up
following bucketloads of rain)

thus went cold turkey,
(as attested by this gobbledygook)
to swear off high caloric non nutritious
popular beverages
(generating bajillions dollars),
and additionally forced non chipper infowar
i.e. internal three ring circuits
uncivil insurrection
(a tad more'n eighteen months ago)
as weeks elapsed months
(this unplanned resolution

dated June seventeenth
two thousand twenty two),
discarded over the shoulder boulder holder
in tandem with exercise
few times per week
alternating plying twenty pound dumbbells
and exercising viz pedaling
(quasi bicycle) machine
a pronounced reduction
saved me big bucks
undergoing cosmetic (Liposuction) surgery!

I rolled into town before dawn
Tired and hung over
And cranky
I had woken up nose to nose with a ***** ******* named Michelle
With whom I had downed more than a few litres of *** the night before
She had her ******* in a test tube nestled between her ****
I did not imbibe, it's not my thing
Let me drink
Let me drown
We are in the heart of paramilitary Colombia and I should not be here
Nose to nose
Drying residue on my leg
My pants by the window
My shoe in the sink
Michelle had gotten into a fist fight at a drag show the night before
Rolling up her sleeves
She took me away in a little white car with her other ******* friends
Into the night
Into pools of ***
And coke
And pesos misspent
I danced Vallenato with a crossdresser on a dusty floor in a bar on the black side of town
She didn't want to speak to me
So Michelle took me home
her home was a salon
Life imitating Art
And there we drowned.

In the afternoon I watched prisoners beg for their sanity in a building that reeked of ****
Barely enough water to drink
Tear gas in cages
Political prisoners or criminals
With homemade toothbrush shanks under pillows
Blood on the walls
Children in riot shields
A prison on an empty road
******* men scaled the walls to bring buckets to parched mouths
Bodies self scarred
dial telephones pulled between cells on ropes
Broken mirrors poking through bars to see who approaches
Broken inmates
Broken guards
At home that evening,
I missed being nose to nose with Michelle
But she never called again.