Safety is the Cootie Wootie

The Business End of a Cigarette (Final)

For Delta Dodecalactone:

The business end of a cigarettes
brushes your adrenal cortex
It has a bizarre effect
on the glands behind your forehead
You spent some time on the ledge
Showin’ of yer cunt and yer breasts
Yes, that is where we met
Where you pushed me off to my death
The business end of a cigarette
connected to the guns, I checked
It stays the same for what is left
of unaccountable intent
In this new town, I start fresh
I’ll get a job and make some friends
In this new town, I’ll make a dent
and purge out all of my knowledge
The business end of the cigarette
that I will put out on your chest
That knocks out all of your breath
That makes you gasp for oxygen
Then I will light up the next
and have a talk with your parents;
a drag for every offense
Makin’ the cherry and your face red
The business end of a cigarette
Pink like the tip of my phallus
My mole burrowed ‘twixt yer legs
Blows the whistle on your secrets
You said you liked me the best
of the crowd in your uterus
You liar, you lioness
Beauty and the Beast once again
You think you’re a princess
Helpin’ out the less fortunate
You’re a hyena at best
Scavenging the human wrecks

The business end of a cigarette
That I push into my eye socket
It keeps me sane; sentient
And gives me some fucking self-respect

June 19

In retrospect, the moment is still passing.

Something to remember.

June 9

Shit from the back side of the sheet of paper I was using as a wax-catcher for my candles:

Unfinished and never will be.

My semen will begin to rust
The metallic edges of your calloused husk
The far fringes of inhuman trust
and the smeared accumulation of lunar dust
that coats the inside of your lungs
That hopes to one day touch your tongue
To cover it and make it numb;
swollen as if it were stung
By the stingers of a million bugs
that pierce the thin skin like male plugs
That fit in the wounds all nice and snug
that pump you with anesthetic drugs
Create a ghost in every touch
No feeling where my fingers brush
‘Cause it ain’t askin’ for too much
To feel dulled when I begin to crush
the soft insides of your eardrums
Don’t worry, babe, I’ll make it numb
The sonic boom will be a hum
That makes you blush or makes you cum

June 1

The Animals in Manclothe (Rough Translation)

“Camels mate and the desert procreates,” he said. He had that cryptic way of speaking. Carved out of limestone, drenched in tonic water, the faux-calcification of quinine buildup on his skin kept the mosquitoes away.

May 19

Excerpt From a Euthanasia Themed Song

I have a nasty disease called tip of the tongue
I live in constant slavery of the things I coulda done
My soul is absorbed by the trees; is fed by the sun
It mixes those two energies from the leaves to the stump
Distill these words that I said and make yerself drunk
Point your penis at my head and violently cum
My tenure’s coming to and end, but at least it was fun
And we’ll all forget that I’m dead cause we’re cosmically dumb
My mutilated genitals are raw and rubbed
I tore them with tenderness and out of love
I’ve lived and entire millenium
But all I want is a lethal dose of your drugs

May 14

Big Top: Another Verse

You must pay for what you break
Twist my neck like a turn of phrase
Lap the milk up from my snake
Or any serpent that lactates
Any reptile that I’ll hate
That pushes me out of the frame
That reminds me that I’ve been raped
That my testicles are now grapes
You suck them inward with the great
Hole that violently shakes
That you’ll one day use to mate
The one that gives you many names
In Canada, we have a saying
“A woman will never change”
and “What is broke can be repaid
if you’re willing to take the blame”
I will make you go away
I will pillage; I will take
I will defile your remains
Believe me, I will desecrate

May 12