UntuitionHard to follow

Tar and feathers

I stank of oil, greasy black
Shook my legs out for a spin
Coughing through some dampened lungs
Cloudy like the room we’re in

Wall to wall of pornstars that we’ve never been
Like headless flies, hung up on same old memes
Faces on posters with no name, in a Boson’s lifetime
Same repertoire, same styled and lip-synced mime

I spat my coffee laughing at the Icons
Madonna’s carpet burn from strapping Jesus
Oedipal stories not requiring comedians
Take it with a handful of salt and hope for expedience

Ideal of prime genetics that we’ve never been
Kneel and smear your lens with Vaseline
Las Vegas and Lost Wages
Basking in the middle mean

In the mist of burning coal
It is real around your nose
Drips down black like paintstains
And leaves dried powder trails
Everywhere it goes

Through those cracks of control
Will seep dampened flaws
Drawing lines to cease desire
Throwing blood into the fire

Scratching with uneven nails
Your head itself is its’ own jail
In the mirror stands the prison guard
Be careful you don’t drop the soap
It might make both of us too hard

Hunting habits they have gone
On the plate now, there is only bones
Creased old skin has ceased desire
Thrown wet ground into the fire