angry armored dna

a good friend told me

we were born lonely

and raised from necessity.

readily admitting that i

possess neither the lexical grace

nor the sheer wisdom

requisite to even conceive

of a phrase so eerily elegant,

(capacities which my fearsome

muse has thusly demonstrated),

i wish merely to write

a little letter about loneliness.

born lonely

raised from necessity

well that’s what she said anyway

but

it got her so sad

all that “inexorable” talk

as we're spinning the wheel

in our slobbering shit cycle

zooming out

to see

a squalid swarm of virus

one big factory

pumping out endless tides of dna

zooming in

to see

a widdlebitty cell

one tiny factory

pumping out endless tides of dna

zooming up

to see

the endless tides spraying

from the males jerking off

(hopefully to a pair of big-ass titties

i mean let’s be honest here

who isn’t a fan

i mean i’m half-chub just

visualizing half the plastic cannons

in my spankbank sheet)

oh ya ya here we go yup

pump pump pump surge the tides of judgment

these pounding waves of angry armored dna

so angry so angry

from the left they rabble

so foul

so crude

for what earthly purpose does he need to discuss

said quoteunquote spankbank tsk tsk

and from the right they rabble

oh goddamnit

he’s gone off again

first it was something about his friend

and that thing she said and then

something about dna or waves of semen

and now he’s meta-reflecting

on his own damn words

why can’t i just sit down and

read something comfortably

by this sackbreath

alas with delight

i shall inform everyone

that i – sackbreath –

will proudly talk about jerking it

to a big beautiful pair of tits

all i goddamn want

although

i admit

that would be rather beside the current point

although

i admit

i like the scenic route

so nevermind

aw yee come here

we’re having this talk now

it ought to be had sometime

and we’re on the scenic route anyway

nono okay

i’ll try to be fair (although it’s not a strong suit)

let’s tackle this taboo of titties

in this titillating trivial tantrum

(as always, delightfully and

consistently inapropos)

let us look

each other in the face

can you tell me that

you really find

the concept of surgically-enhanced

ideal-made-real

perfectly ultimate titties

somewhat unpleasant or distasteful?

the answer is largely moot

because the (big beautiful) concept in question

is infinitely more appealing to anyone

than the previously-mentioned

disgruntling image of men world-wide

cradling their unshaven scrotes and

grunting and snorting and sweating

their fistfuls of dna

into towels and sinks (and preferably) esophagi (what what)

and pooling up inside belly buttons

and dripping out of moist

[you should stop now.]

right-o chief

customer knows best and

since we seem to have

such a hilariously bizarre telekinesis

going on tonight maybe i’ll get

RELIEVINGLY (smug smile

amprisandyvagina deep breath)

back to my fearsome muse

and the iron brilliance

on her bitter breath

yes, my good friend

we’re both lonely and necessary

raised just because and why not

just

two steps further

two shoves forward on

the efflorescing nubs of a branch

on our (big beautiful) family tree

so my soul sister

my fiery muse

my darling weaver of words

yes you’ve webbed yourself within

that ubiquitous mire

that omnipresent armor

just as fatigued as

the rest of us

and sweet slam queen

i will inexorably be your passerby

whilst never passing judgment

toward your crown

i will drift

in that pesky ubiquitous mire with you

(just know that)

god if only all words could be sung

from the top of some church bell tower

except fuck churches

so some other secular building with bells in it

and oh we would sing

we would singinging

and look

it’s nighttime now

but i think enough time has passed

we have explored every crusty creative neuron

and shat it all out of our heads

yes yes
now we have time to be silent

to reflect

and please my succulent muse

do not think for a second

that i would conceive of a reality in which

i were more wise than you

i claim to know merely that i can know nothing

(to know meaning to attain an approximation of universal truth)

but see

it’s all necessary

all of this bullshit

inevitable

and most importantly irrelevant.

we’ll pass by

and drink our respective coffees

and yeah probably pump out some

lonely kids and live out some

mistake-riddled lives

never reaching perfection

but we will clasp our wind bitten palms

as we continue to erodebreakdowndecay

until the croak that last croak

that last chance for the ostensible soul

to sneak his way out

a remorseless irruption

as the flabby meats

banish the ostensible soul

that last sneezehugkisspissjizzshit

oh how we would savor it

but you’ll be dead

we’ll all be fucking dead

and we won’t

have to worry about it anymore

(joyoyoyoy)

so

bask with me

in the world

in ourselves

in our brevity

in that sweet peaceful nothingness

that soothing trumpet

blustering over the hills

into milky pink sunset

for the sake of its sound

a melody rising above entropy

forever blowing and rising

constantly trying to escape

the ostensible fact

that it’s always about to vanish.