“Fuck It Dude. Let’s Go Bowling.”

Concepts arise inviting discussion.
Fallacies tickle the genitals of consciousness.
And open legged virgins
Tip the bartender with a wink.


I stare at the bathroom faucet.
A rainbow shimmers in the descending water.
I splash color on my fingers until they prune.

I see beauty in the whores.
It was Mary Magdalene who washed Jesus’ feet.
But who washed hers?

I want to be the reason why her feet are dirty!

Walk them (the Whores) to the edge where accidents occur.
Place my hand on their backs and say:
“Before I push you. Decide where you’re going to land.”

I’ll treat the echo
The way a Priest
Treats a confession.
Snub the failures.


Suicide is boring.
Sex is a cliché.

And if it ever gets too overwhelming,
Kill the Lived Experience.

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