Minced Fat Free WidgetOh, the fire scorpions that bite my heels...The brown-garbed salesman with his deals I want to be ninety-nine point Forty-four percent pure As I am drawn to the allure Of an all expense melts-in-your-mouth Look at that hippie smoking a joint Paid not-in-your-hands vacation In Vegas with a new set of wheels And the taxes for a little irritation Compared to the leading brand You have little recreation Our brand is the best Taking the matter into hand You get little rest The results of procreation The bed sheets smell of love But brand-X will make them virtually Honey I'm home spot free Do you hear minced me diced sliced I'm And another touchdown home Call us at honey I'm home one-eight-hundred We are honey do you the people that care
DementiaSmiling while chewing on tin foilAs I slide down a razor banister Into my dying room I watch the grey static Of the evening news Grey babies dying Grey people bleeding grey blood Smiling with the news anchor And then watching talking toilets And singing raisins That dance across the screen. The movie comes on And I laugh at the vomit scene In "The Exorcist" I've had days like that, too. I get into my car parked in my driveway And drive down a parkway Where I work and eat lunch In an industrial park I awake before the sun rises And drive home after dark I put my hours in at work And my dream is realized The smaller TV is now in the corner As I watch the gray static Of the evening news On a big screen TV The raisins sing louder And dance faster And the grey people Like me, are greyer, too. |
Bottle MommyI suckle at your breastsDrinking your red milk Like a vampire drinking blood I am fucked up, Bottle mommy. My tears are mixed with your milk, And I swallow them, too, As I drown my sorrows, In the river Lethe. I nurse like a baby vampire I need you to get through the night Like a baby needs milk To get through the day... I am alone. Mommy mommy, I am fucked up, I see dragons licking my paper cuts, With tongues of fire, That cauterize wounds, That cut me to the bone. I suck at your glass nipple To the light of the fluorescent Which smells of electricity My mind is electrified And fertilized by the power Of your red milk. In your sweet fire I am warmed Forgetting the pain of life I am baptized in the river Lethe. I dream the dream of the damned, Who wonder of something more, Who want to find true love, And not the cold grasp of a whore. You grow heavy with the passing hour You are as a bride A statue made out of lead That I must carry across the threshold, And yet you take away my pain, For as long as I hold you In my weakening grasp. I will awaken with a headache Tomorrow but I feel That tonight is what I live for Or perhaps die for For the pain I feel lasts until I fall asleep Until your grasp releases me... Mommy, of the red milk.
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