This entire empire of dirt and manure is about to expire
I'm not gonna lie, between you and I, I wish I was a lier
My mind though is compulsive when lighting it's pants on fire
Nose long as a telephone wire, front and center like a town crier
And the shiit that I get from myself and the public stacks higher and higher
I know exactly what's about to transpire
Yet I always make it worse, never better
Like a water geyser to a grease fire
I'll forever be a fumblin', bumblin' reality denier
Faced with a situation that can only be described as dire
When you've only ever been able to hire a blind get-a-way driver
There's no chance of escaping this hell, life organically becoming satire

©2024

Forget her
Don't suffer to remember just to suffer forever, sucker
Lust safer
Rub one out and see if the hunger doesn't expire a little quicker
Cold fire
Flip it 180 and record what's bound to transpire
Loves quagmire
Simple desire will always inspire but ensnare a liar

Shifty empire
Not strange to aspire to be a vicious, succubus, vampire
Almost satire
An enticing lure to offer for sure but unstable as brushfire
Situation's dire
Sooner than later fall victim to the inevitable backfire
Flimsy tightwire
An act in need of fools for hire, speaking to the choir

©2023

as dyne
packed parch
and hard
in pettifog
with hopes
of his
fine lore
would evoke
lavender oil
then exhume
reed with
desire there
longing Rembrandt
but with
gallivant now
ripe with
more gestalt

a myriad
dice with
death that
she expose
gnaw to
friends and
catch flu
with symptoms
of abuse
then the
healing of
this inertia
in times
like these
that she
was nigh

money machine
was astride
but direly
enured any
time but
for treasury
would still
dilate his
mind if
togetherness was
our kind
when ritual
finally was
to field
but wept
and dined
in spring