A fragile cranium is cradled in the crook of a twisted arm while
eyes fall shut, drug dazed and disappointed
from the careful shredding of poetry
(for it is of a delicate cut).
Black and white photographs
capture paper clip quotations
while daring shadows climb towards the door
only bothered to be halted by oxblood exclamations.
Statues flaunting the victor of the Greek wet T-shirt contest,
hosted by Dionysus
and Ralph (The God of Bowling
visiting from Egypt for a short holiday),
lie in ruins behind guarded barriers.
Boyfriends try to turn their lovers hair
white
because anime is sexy.
Wake up from this twisted daydream
just to realize that only things
so twisted
could be reality.