These are sparkling, squishy days When life is mushed up and deranged. I’d like to draw up walls and lines – Distinguish hellish from divine But it’s all so goddamned good!
Homunculus came out to play: A pound of flesh to pound and flay. He used to have a human soul But swapped it for salacious holes. We whet these valves with prods and pokes, A tune of soul-felt dreams and jokes. His mind unfurled in fascination Then withered with ejaculation, Our fission gone for good.
Next there entered Drama Girl. Her beauteous conflict shook the world. She crashed and spun and changed her form (Her garments elegantly shorn). I jumped the stage and did her scene – A passion play of wants and dreams – Until her love became derision, Changed by self-doubt and suspicion Of things too true to be good.
So what transcendence can I draw From tasting things I thought I saw, When gods of Love and Passion fight Then copulate for fun and spite, When cyclic fictions spin and turn To stranger truths we never learn, When pain peaked pleasures boil and stew Life’s mysteries into saccharine goo Turning all to merely good?
With hardened heart and rotting teeth I wash my mouth of sticky dreams. And, spitting these marks onto paper, Turn in search of richer flavor And leave this place for good.