Slipping into dreamscapes with
Cheshire Smiles and unlimited
potential
Cradling children crying in oblivion
with eyes that see no future
Limited
Limit the daytime novels
Limit the ignorance, obsessed
inducing headaches
By the time colors butcher everything
anybody has ever said
I lie awake dreaming of colors
erased with lead
Leading me to believe there is
no cure for the common confided
catastrophe
a Tragedy that shows in Hi-Fi
fecal depression
So sleep
Little Lost Serial Slave
The only means of a failed escape
with the gilded cunt that got
away with the televised child in
your arms
Show me
Show me how to get a grip on any reality,
with my adulterous arms fleeing with
the hemorrhoid freak
If I can't... how?... Scarlet Tramp!
I have some letters you'd love to seduce,
but so would I...
Show me how to hope for something a
little less -
less terrible, great, confusing, maneuvering
in the Minotaur's house of lies
A dead end where I could practice my
fetal position
positioning myself to wait for wings that
carry me from Fantasia in waking Hades
to stability I could love
Planting my feet in an ever-growing
ever-annoying populace, populating
the open ranges of the spread eagle
prostitute
I
will not
Slave
over
the
Million Pin Prick March
and the
open air stabbing my crippled nubs
The Bastards of Present and Future Realities
will slave over me!
... but first... where does the tunnel lead?
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