synthesizers

synthesizers wail in sunken ballad,

sunken like the sockets of a mascara-fucked eye,

neon torn through gaping veins and

sucked through pipes and tubes and whole intestines of plumbing

that lace around a ravaging city of night through the reinforced cement and my skull;

unreinforced mind- where's brain plumbing?

I tried to skip a stone against the still lake of its heart,

but sunken stone too, all that was skipped was a beat-

beats that pulse from buttons and giant keyboards of craft,

and syncopated rhythm of the night fucks the ear,

syncopated heart- drums cover ties so taut I pitch like the lady on the screen

morphing into a cat on her bed as she's fucked-

fucked by him, by me, by the night and we're all grandly fucked against

table tops, and leaning towers, and eiffel towers;

fucked, I dance, lights turned off, to some classical rhythm of the indianest verses on neon screen,

like a 7/4 time signature could save me:

I'm just a hologram,

isotoped tin can,

foam in his mouth man,

i'm just as clueless as-

fuck i'm a clueless ass

that's rammed and rammed and rammed

every seven beats.

saturated dickhead who runs the sky plains,

turns his clouds off, uploads a rain that's poisoned by gallons and cum-loads of acids and smog-

our celibate chimneys have finally jacked off!

giant pillars that might as well have fucked us right off before we were born.

sticks of tasers and sabers of light that pierce through neon brains and subways that stop at trains,

and trains of light that gargle through sewers of twenty-tracked minds and try to run the show;

i'm burned and cold, sun parched, choked, look up, and gravity fucks your gaze- your shoes are rich,

my buttcheeks are rich, how about we eat an actual peach instead?

round, delicious mass of love, abundant, ripe,

cuz really, you could look up at the sun

and no matter how hard you close your eyes

it just won't turn black.