https://soundcloud.com/zerosummersounds/r-rated-ape
Nervous animals seek angles in which to hide
naughty apes satisfying angels inside
Noah’s ark: section A.
Let’s play
smacked legs; what shall I
accuse her of
next?
She occupied Wall St. once in my head
she made a nest from ‘V for Vendetta’ facemasks
and laid convex word-eggs like empty threats laced
with misery, or the mystery of punishing pets:
a daisy chained suffragette
sinking salmon shots into a city
that is none of my fucking
business.
Educating a violent expert,
heaving the science of miniskirt secrets;
torn lips ripped a kiss
from the cotton mouthed kidZ pursed tips: The
Son of Sand dissolving
a paperweight panty
that is
equal to an exception
when wet, pumping compressed carbon
into her write hand, wed locking, set
fascination.
We should have made a mind together
and named him after his mixed-up
parents – Thermo Fat Her: see!
He already sounds
like a repellent Chinese
super star,
telling lies,
Her eyes are anti-autistic lullabies,
through their latex lagoon I can imagine empathy
looking back into my control room technology.
I am auto-obsessed; I am electric-lonely at best
but jacked-in with an identical ego,
intuiting a twisting fantasy of
a twin
squirming turbo;
Ergo
I suspect my desire to destroy myself
is, in actuality, an attempt to destroy
the internet’s interpretation
of her negative reality
inversion.
Depravity made modest
with a rubber band tightness,
commanding gravity to concede the curve
in our unequal crisis: the regulated strictness
of monogamy, the refined magnificence
tearing apart the dichotomy
like a constricted ape suiciding her own vagina
via vile social media, file sharing the virus in all of us
whilst picturing a placid race, hollow caustic,
caught on tape, plastic-
fantastic –
being shamed, being blameless,
being pinched, being seized with the speed
of my first-love lynched.
A cabin-fever kind of pressure, per sq. inch
lungs drawn, quartered
cages undone and swamped with the vestiges
of forty two Finches, swarm
flooding the vacuum-packed helmet
of the NASA-damned astronaut
fifty thousand feathers
crammed into a single
cartridge, wagon screaming
naught.
What worth
the fragments of bird
spattered
on my broken
knuckles? *chuckles*
Put a price on this fixation
and I will raise you –
the asphyxiation
of marble, a feather-tar spacesuit
acting as antimatter armour Resisting
my carving brain, an exodus
buckling
above
the weightlessness
of Lazarus
echoing as a refrain
the weightlessness
of Lazarus
echoing as a refrain
the weightlessness
of Lazarus
echoing as a refrain
