Bullhorns, Meet "Fuck"

Cultured arrogance is bursting through vacancies,
Seldom whistle tunes of universal relevance.
Cranberry riddles secrete out the cheeks,
Smells more sacred than religion.
Hazy harmonies flock to gaping tool sheds and burn,
Burn a deeper chrome.
Every shade is ever more vibrant, but lack the genuine glow.
Am I scared of disheveled trumpets? Their drones pluck my passions.
Voluptuous like Rosetta's stone, but cataclysmic all the same.
So this is youth, or is this youth? A bag full of nerves claiming to know truth.
And maybe they're right. They mastodon-march inside that leather bag-husk,
Pupa husk, larvae line-routines.
Another bullshit cry from antique bullhorns falls brittle on
Ears of orgasms and attention, redefining the wheel, the classic cool.
But it's so hard to believe, so hard to accept, when I am one of them.
Or am I that out of touch? How can I be, when these sonnets are
Exactly the fucking same? The classic cool, redefined.
Where is elegance? Where is eloquence? Where is ambiguity? Where is anonymity?
So this is youth.
So this is youth.
So this is youth.

Tea Party Of A Witch

My beloved guests,

Drink deep from offered opulence.

We sit atop bridges all day

With puffed-out chests, causing carpool decay.

Wine rot innocence,

Lick the bottom of a chalice.

We now refine fast in my den,

Assume an orgy of decadence.

The flames under the cauldron dance

With tarantism, lacking circumstance.

Transparent tea from horny leaves

Coax spirits out to ditch bodies.

Lime bats with wings of sweets

Watch as their corpses scream mutiny.

Betrayal from a witch

Collects their gawks so counterfeit.

Rob life from the robbers,

Lift them by the snout and smother.

Cruelty rains from my throat,

Ending vapid lives while sweating bones.

This change of heart comes at a price:

Cascading diamonds, lucrative crimes.

Tea party poison from deities,

They liberate you, and reprimand me.

The Kids Are Getting So Much Older

I'm cooked at the fingertips,

Fly swat freckles lynch my judgment.

Collections of school teachers

Nag cowardice into play like eretions.

Dizzying ballets from teenagers

Lick at the puffed chest of acceptance.

While I watch from a flagship

Cumming at the peacock mantelpiece.

Take me to the schoolyard like classic slang!

There's field made of soundboards playing sex in repeat.

The young fangs can gawk at buds while facing in a cage!

Nurse, please prep the night for the march of adultery!

Sweet secretion! Sour hole!

Pumping out hot angst like a bicep engine,

Lactating butter love form a pheromone kitchen

Sweet secretion! Sour hole!

They shake and rattle on hospital beds,

Looking up through glass to separate heavy heads.

A Crude Portmanteau Of Love And Desire

This is the angry love poem, by all meanings you can conjure up,

This is the angsty break of false freedom that

Everyone acclimates to after a break up.

A crude portmanteau of love and desire,

That is you.

Shock

Clear water's breathing fumes again,

And bribing the sky for it's murmured grin

It's chalice crashes along the shore and waits

Jotting down in ruptured eyes all that's bold and fake.

My spandex visions collaborate at the skull

Sipping mischief-flavored champagne dripping so wonderful

The shore is chock full of fucking scum

Working out and flexing egos til exasperation

Last week's flavor is this week's ridicule

We're all fucking starving for a new kind of cool

Nicotine spurts crab-walk their way to the gutter

Performing surgery harmlessly on one another

From Here Til Tomorrow

From the graveyard to the recovery room,

You never cease to shine less astounding.

Your pale skin wrapped in blackened everything

Charms me into a state of mental climax.

Gutted nicotine beauty marks spot the trickling conniptions

Coming straight from my chamber

Climb into an unkempt suture

Drink up the poison and lecture your manners

I feel like bombing out your carapace

That won't cease to stop causing a ruckus

Containment in a locket of a face full of decrepit discretions.

Collect Me Collective

A vice on loose ties,

Carry out that sentence, holding fast the tongue that licks

And tastes just like yours.

You all are the white-noise children that bat eyes as a collective,

A tribe that babbles familiarity, on and on and on and...

Single out that viper,

Redemption cooking under outstretched skin,

Birthin baked zeppelins dropping cacophonic bombs,

Screaming those words.

You know my name but not my face.

I scratch and pry into the eye of the storm,

But no words come out of the mumbled mutters.

No redemption.

No recollection of that unpolished fang you cast out.

There's no fare that matriarch will accept.

For her tongue and mind is as twisted as her own viper.

Like-minded siblings, form a shell and smother my brothers.

Suffocate my sisters.

Transform them into undead that look just like you.

Walk through a glowing graveyard shrouded in delight

And let me choke on it with you.

Let me gag under your trenches, over your pointed fingers

And let's become undead alike.

Fraggle Rock

Don't taste of my dreams

Born blind in my teens

Where the jackyl lays waste to the mouth agape

And stuffed with morphine.

Don't suck from my dreams

Blessed to be obscene

They look like cataracts staring at disheveled newscasts,

Television screens.

I'd hate for you to grieve bad news,

But we;re all still alive, waving flags made of knives

And a rugged bruise.

I'd hate for you to waive the noose,

But a million sickled knots couldn't clot the rot

That's come for you.

Bloodbaths and frenzy

On circuitry seas

We're a ship made of noise with a dock full of boys

Begging for broadcast teams.

Contracted lovers

Hide in you covers

Batter high-five brides with cons between their thighs

To watch you mumble.

The classic brand settled down and pay the rent

Your drugged-down yesteryears lay in a pool of lament

They're singing "Oh, oh, oh...give us one more chance!"

Collecting compound lies and throwing them in the back of a van

Like a gunman, you take sight with a squited eye

But desire what lies on the other side.