It’s harder than it looks, especially the morning after, falling for the old dragon
playing russian roulette with those brown bedroom eyes. Teach me how to cry
like a woman cause I’ve only ever been such a good boy
…

The sun burns callous behind these eyes. Eyes of lithium saltwater & blue perfumes. Eyes of mylar flux revolving planetary. Dark cybernetic ritual of mind’s eye drowning in soylent dreams of Alhambra, Alcatraz, Alameda. Heraldic eyes draped in dead hair. Eyes grey as overboiled eggs.
…

I am still young enough, unformed enough, to be mistaken for a girl. Underneath my clothing there is nothing to betray otherwise, a sun-carameled body best left on the sand at the mouth of the ocean.
…

Don’t worry about me / down here / I am milking maggots / for fly wine with my feet / I am laughing wildly and lacquered in gold leaf / or piss streams, hissing tributaries / When hell strikes high noon
…

I’m so imperious I could be the sun, but
I’m only the son of a smuggled sunflower, and my
fear of loss. Paralysis dominates and I think I am done
palpitating. The despondent prince of the furious valley
of sex. But today is heaven I’m Daddy’s perfect girl
…