Turn on Nashville

A dealer idiot him screwed twenty five
women at the age of twenty and said
he was bisexual. Well, why not trisexual?
Add a lamp, fuck its bulb and see it grow.
Or slither on semantics your stimulants
got you so far through, hoisting
your serpent brain above its hoops
evolution never meant it for. Leathery,
and built, and the motor of dancing
at hot faces the moron behind them felt
roll all around slaving the eyes
and hips to die a little quicker,
and probably better. There at the hilt
of trunk and groin was no psychiatry.
I’ll drag you in ten years to Bedlam with me.


~ by Jeremy on May 27, 2012.

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