by Burnt Filament
"It is in the theory of perception that we have established our bond. Or, the lie, I should say, for which we kill."
—Lady Gaga, The Manifesto of Little Monsters
In browser windows,
you hoof past airport
security :
In our minds,
gloved hands
probe your ass
as you don shades
& blooded lips :
princess who picks
scabs like sequins
from our eyes glazed
like hams, we marinate
in your whiskey
breath that pervades
FM waves,
MP3 compress
-ion, smoke-ring
-éd vinyl rotation :
You, Y-Generation-
distraction, glitterati-
Xeroxed-erection
reflection :
eyelashéd, gauze-
wiggéd, impressionistic-pop-
pianist with Dada gravitas—
You, Gaga, are the hologram
as much as the shadow.
Because your tits
are as sweet as rock
candy, as loaded as guns,
we hold our tongues
to the barrel.
No matter what you feed us,
we will pray for a cock
duct-taped back
behind latex
as we bend
over united.
Author Bio:
Burnt Filament blogs at burntfilament.tumblr.com.
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