lacing up my moonboots

Aug 21, 2008 - 14:07 PM PST

I am an orant to nothing,
like a prism in the dark fully clothed.
A mysterious landmark that nobody knows
in a neighborhood of faces stacked neatly in rows.
My masterpiece is drawn with pencils ledded with white.

The avenue full of fancy cars
run on pollen and a million pretty stars.
They relay orgasms to the indecisive,
flooding the cities where all the mice live.
they breath in the fumes
and die slowly in their kitchens and bathrooms.
Their children kneel on the cool tile floors,
as the producers peak in on their gardens of whores.