Its the same old static & flaccid striptease. (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer
Displaced, devoid of desire
I take in morning, reminded of whores
who tease by lifting their skirts.
An urge to write is followed
with the urge to avoid writing utensils,
the front door, and opening my encrusted eye lids.
Aside from things mundane,
thirst and nicotine cravings motivate me
if only for a short while...
I've resigned myself to observing things,
absolutely stupid things really. Human activity
apparently happens to be 80% spastic idiocy;
the remaining 20% of activity includes eating, pissing,
shitting and attempting to fuck anything with a camels toe.
Reefer offers me the ability not to notice,
since the pointless urge to reveal to others
their retardation is best left alone;
most get defensive anyway, or offended
which leaves me wanting to smash their faces
into a work of gothic obsession.
Switched into neutral, I let the night creep
and eventually engulf everything; a bored slut
slowly letting her skirt float back down.
Life to me is a perpetual striptease-
the excitement long dead, flesh and beauty
faded into subtlety.
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