if i was a bird
i'd fly through the ocean
live with the coral
and eat whatever i wanted to

but i'm just a boy
and i don't know a thing, you gotta let me know
whenever, oh i am falling a part

this might sound absurd
but if i was a roman
i'd live without morals
and lay with whoever i wanted to

but i'm just a boy
and i don't know a thing
i gotta let you know
oh i'm with you from the start

photos of turds
i send to my close friends
are little pictorials
of when i ate whatever i wanted to

but i'm just a boy and you're only a girl
both looking for love in a cold dark world
we found each other and put on a glove
now we just lay here in the sweat of our love
if you don't find reason
i'll find mine
to not lay together until we die

why don't you eat your heart out
i want to go to your house tonight
just to eat your ***** inside and out
but ill just dream of you tonight

I take a look through the picture book at scenes of times gone by,
ladies in crinolines like statues and heroines and men looking sombre, moustachioed hombres of the gentlemen variety,
children with faces pressed up to the windows in countrywide mansions, I wonder if that's how they lived.

And there are other images of urchins by lampposts on street corners in cities without any names, old men in Trilbys and women in aprons, ragged dogs with nowhere to go, cats on the railings and rats in the gutters,

in the countrywide mansions, they close all the shutters and pretend that this doesn't exist.

Don't come, not yet...

But if you must

Take me with you,

At least delay until I come too...

Let's slow the pace of heightened

Heartbeats, breaths - red

Hot like the blood flow

The flush on faces,

The temperature of noon o'clock...

I know you love it

When we both come together

Sweetly stuck together

Like magazine pages of **** pictorials

Quickly now, nutcracker unload,

These Late lunches that glues us

Together.

Overtime doesn't feel so much like work,

And you leave with a smile,

A bill on the counter.

A brief insult to my prideful high,

This hookers going to buy

Some lingerie

On her lover's dime.

How delightful to waste time...

*(Consumption)

everything comes through the senses
even intuition is set to work by their prompting
images in dreams are a mishmash of cut up pictorials
gathered and reaped deep in the subconscious
imagination needs a starting point, this too through interaction
so what's left? everything is open to interpretation.