Why revolutions come and go,
the intelligence of birds,
the simplification of time and space.
Why the maternal urge is merciless and assured.
Why lovers are drawn to Paris.
Why beauty cannot be made but can be sold.
Why God cannot reside in the world.
Why entropy is perpetually enthroned..
I saw the world forget all questions.
Plagues came with rifles and veils of light.
I saw the economy fattened by souls,
drowning in gallons of mercantile refuse.
The sun extinguished like a match in the toilet bowl.
I saw bodies decomposing in the salons,
prime ministers prostrating themselves before secretaries.
All wasting away with dehydration.
I saw cattle poisoned with idealogical strains of bacteria.
I saw steroids exploding from the underarms of my dearest friends.
I saw cannibals in the kitchen pureeing bones.
The ritzyist cemeteries were pilfered for food.
I saw televisions heave one last desperate sixty minutes and
go blank with a frail electric pop.
I saw musical instruments being fed into the engines of automobiles.
I saw the sphinx vandalized with mascara.
It was raining in Egypt.
We are Merchandise
We are not men, we are merchandise.
Buy me.
I'm thin, steam rolled and ironed,
my skin is soft white ashphalt
my skin is game ready and unbroken
sweet to the discriminating lip.
I've the static intellect
A child of Anne Rice,
I peep through the porn with the gaze of plastic supernat
Clean trash with bony arms, blood
and skin on coathanger wire
shot through with androgen
biochemical love is spraying invisbly from my pores.
I've embroidered adjectives on
the complexes of my compatriots.
Smart, baby, she's smart
Cool, lover, he's cool
Pretty butter, damn straight.
They all wanna fuck this commodity.
I've all the right holes, and dammit
I bop to the right bands
We are on the same channel, you and I
carved from the same symapathetic array.
My hair is black, but I have dye
if you need me to be the last quick emotional fix.
My hair is blonde.
I will dye for you.
I strut like Cher circa '78
My cock is longer than the combined love of our entire generation
6 inches
My cunt knows Tai Bo
Squeeze squeeze squeeze like Mama's arms
I understand romance, rationalism, revolution
I know the words, honey
Like Oscar Wilde, baby
I am what I pretend to be.
Buy me.
Fuck me.
I'm not just on the pill
I am the pill.
I am a Gen Xer of indeterminate gender.
My soul -mascara laced
I am the lipstick supernova
I am the prefabricated poet.
dressed in pain and comfort
bleeding cheap wine,
shitting red roses,
I know who plato is and recite Shakespeare at least once a fortnight.
What fools these mortals be
I am what I appear to be
We are good for fucking, at least
I am what I pretend to be.
I am what I pretend to be
I am what I pretend to be.