but, past a day learned against the chattering
of wound up and waiting clocks, she's felt
those eyes of the glass mouths without the hold
of the clothes of a pornstar.
her bed eats up the cold of the naked Eria
now madeup fast for unmirrored glass
hosting a livestream over this sweet area.
'play with cock for two long minutes' for your audience.
put away some carcass boredom grown between your hairy vines:
they'd like to see your face buried in wine,
or some action from your unmoved case -
'what are your thighs doing there?
lift them up and unframe yourself,'
'lift your star up' and outmove away
and 'give us some action'
now weighed down with heavy postures.
'you look like you're about to sleep' about the branches -
above, hem away a nest for yourself
crawl up the walls: they'd like to hear you sing.
your kite, sewn up to the feathered sky,
lands out fast for your Eria,
fields and croppings pouring out yr eyez -
is it the stream out yr sharpin end,
or the too long waiting and playing to come?
witching past some broken days on a pretty bed,
i wish and i wish i could imagine you undead.
witching away and swallowed by forests;
eaten up by maw of the night;
burning your man's ruined totem;
catch some worms in a horrorterror of flesh
some fuckup on the rocks by strange and starry Gods
left below in packing loose care
lacking fine structure or electric drive
to sculpt the lightness of your softing testes
left as subtle genes to primæval machines
weak and molded like ocean's rotting whalebones
or tied inward like the dying twins of primate wombs
besieged in waring skin and chasing hair-
cling on to your lovers, your worms and your brothers
your eating watchers
your precious catchers
rob these men for all their soiling bones
god knows they'll clone your cock across the world
he knows they'll wank your softness into their iron
earthly men who steal your steely breasts
for their strange unnerving boredom -
we all found life so flat and infertile
bred to profit those banking wankers
who should never eat our insectoid wastes,
let our perverting tastes steal their kids.
we poor eaters will put these worms in our wet mouths
and lick their recycled soaking lips
eat this, you keyhole spys with desktop eyes
there's a pinhole camera in your brains,
bored away by mundane parties in the dress of the hosts
o how these clothes outgrow us!
their shorting dresses rise too high up out thighs!
lazy boys, shitty lovers and passionless wrecks
we'll eat them all!
all within the mouths of freaks
i'd like to try their bones once more