I see you standing like a salt shaker
soaking in turpentine.
You've changed your mind so much
the definition lines are blurred.
I scratch my balls
and the insect thoughts
fall from them.
So if I'm man what does that
suggest about you?
Snap on the hologram and
we'll moan about lost
picture books.
A droning car zig zags
in and out of view.
You shift your foot
and the tapping traffic lights
wink on and off.
As long as we can both
pretend to care, the
nylon strings that guide the mop
won't disintegrate.
Flawless like a diamond ring
the former
Kings and Queens of history
collectively genuflect.
In case you were wondering,
I now find myself crawling
back to decay with you.