push my buttons
set me aspin
cast me adrift
reel me back in.
elastic tension
test my tolerance.
as i am reconstructed
& everything
every breath, every instant
is a patient & persistant addiction.
sub me out, tie me up
tell me to clean your kitchen

peas in a pod
who's on camera now
show me your papers
the requisite structures
what are you doing to me?
a mad-cap game, & i'm not supposed to participate
take this ache from me
put it on your mantle
it would be best for all concerned to see
how easily i was lead astray
charge admittion,
half off of me
shorn and bared, a stone altar
my every possibility
spilled into your bruised and wanting lips.
watch me sputter and spin
realing with too much information

things fit..
a clock spun & set in sync
before this floor had met my feet.
what impliment could claim such for affect?
i watch it tick...
in place
all nimble and quiet like

whispers in the corner
girls with hands over grins
i would sit & bask
knowing it was you
but would prefer to skirt your influence.
like a school of fish in open sea
i flee from thee
insane geezer freak.

bruised lips, wet with want
stick it in, steal my soul if you're so able
hindsight versus visions of perfection
countermeasures.
an old story, faded stone walls
i remember your name
and what to do when warm eyes turn ghastly

i would prefer vacuum,
confortable and empty
no seething, teeming, tumultous clusterfuck of flesh
that i have, at best, a tenuous control over.
i am completely ruled by limbic urges,

when i was 12 i was babtised in a rickety babtist church.
i found the white smock, the circumstancial ritual quite funny.
it was my turn to get in the pool, and i started to snicker
the preacher held my head under for way to long and i started thrashing about,
came out screaming
my mom says i called him a cock sucker
i've never been to church since.

creatures unto the void
the dreams of a possible scenario.
regolyth
her myth carved on the ediface
before the fall
when my where-with-all faltered.
desperate pleas for rescue-
standard tactics draw the weakest to the frey
& take with languid aching gestures
their place upon the playing field.
ever was, i run from them
find my flavor, hone in
territories on a grid
separation by a drowning death
perhaps a game of go for whatevers left of him.
movements of the ocean
the undertow
i will not go
into a feast of friends that fed upon the end of me.
creatures of retrospect
the habitual definition of boundary
breath that still is sweet
perchance does anyone know where this leads?