Ah.

You looked into my eyes
And I looked into yours
Knowing our pants would be in the floor,
But your heart was re-routed
It only needed a detour;
And mine was freshly grouted.
You flew to my penis,
Like a trickster’s knife.
Heart screaming you didn’t mean this.
Just needed a new life.
I let you in my home
Paid with magnificent dome
And you sang in the kitchen
Voice absolutely bewitching.
But you left me on my birthday
For a skater that made you thirsty.

Juices.

The juice beads to the surface
And the sugar kisses your lips
The sweet rests upon your tongue
Sinking your teeth deep
Slurping, as drips fall down your chin.
A flush comes to your cheeks
And the fruit slides down your throat.

This is how I drank you in.
Every meeting as succulent as the last.
The heat built as steam on glass
On and on sliding down my throat.
You clutched my one.
You clutched me twice.
You clutched my mind.

The bitterness of fruit is that it goes stale.
Washing down my gullet, repeated.
Again and again the same taste.
Stale, bitter, and ever fresher.
We found new ways to remain dull.
Maybe this, never that… Try?

Unadventurous, sweet and delicious
Is the fruit you know too well.

Mind Flow Rant

We have come, and we do not mean to stop. We are here and we do not mean to effect the world as we do. This is it. It all comes to a point where no one, not the cleaver, not the bold. No one can stop the unyielding force that is our next step. The progress of progression is programed to step, step, step its way through existence until the abolition of all life. All needless life. The life that is preserved is that life seen as important, the ideal of the kind. Not too kind. But the courtesy of my name is that it is privileged enough to protect me against domestic  authoritarian terrorists. The terror, the pain, the strife of a nation. The all-knowing know nothings of our land ready to consume the world in a fit of rage and fiery breath. Consumed to fuel, the lower has a purpose. To drive the fire breather on. Be the gas in his metallic belly.