GOLD

Gold staggers
It has its
I mean fuck it has its
You know
Gold, man, it has its
Whatever
It fucking has its goddamn
Whatever gold has
It has it doesn’t it
When the nothing is sacred
The question is asked
In a uniformed naked
You know what I mean
The guardian of unsightly
You know what I lied about
When feeling uprightly
Pour the red
Light the pipe
You are looking unsightly
Which is never a
Conviction
You are looking for light now
And bowed over quite rightly
This argument
This discontent
You are pitted into a landfill of dead
In a season of gold
Like the old man says,
Hold. Fucking hold.
You are healed though unsightly
Gold. Woman. Gold.
With me you go lightly.
Fuck the jailor, the poet, the drunkard, the woman
A sewer, a mantlepiece, slave poet well spoken
This discontent
This growling resent
This voice from the past
This male unscrewing this laugh fucking last
I’ve gone on too long
Can tell by your regress
Ballet slippers on tensions
Fingers clawing the drain
I miss you sweet humans
Again, and again
I miss you sweet humans
But next time I’ll aim.