Your body is all angles and veins,
Face, Perfection, in Dual Tone.
Your Reason defined in discrete steps,
I feel I understand.
You ignore my subtle deviances,
And make love to me,
For the greater good.
My Precious Heart,
You shatter into little bits,
Sprinkle on a Dadaist collage,
As I make my stand on a cabaret stage.
Where liberal values devour a naked audience of voluptuous flesh,
Over-fed by the prices of prints,
That mock them and extol them.
Baby tell me that the demise of society,
Should be welcomed with the acceptance of over-abundance,
In this surreal fantasy of corn-fed violence.
That is our bedroom, our apartment,
Our phallic projectile of glass and steel and concrete,
Inserted deep into the bowels of Mother Earth,
(The adulterous bitch to bring forth life of such variety).
Let us drive across the continent of Europe,
That is so wide, mien Herr,
Which I promise you is not the case,
With the space between my legs,
My dear.
Hurtle down a highway,
Between politics and aesthetics,
Into a tunnel where at the end, there is no light,
And we fling ourselves into the singularity.
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