torn labels

we sit around his loft and have a few drinks –
stare at th painting on th wall

i know i am as good as bound
to feel
a different impression

            a dirty patron
            who gags girls
            under
            lime margarita skies

            he somehow gets away
            w/ carving emotions
            out of blue eyes
                        says we are all animals
                        and snorts
                        a fine line

they don’t know me, he says, and whether that is tender
youth or a sick obsession, I wonder

( staring at the marilyn manson painting on the wall::

                  dysmorphophila

he says he likes th idea
of two cocks and can relate
to one and th other
but admits he cannot feel either

            pin up                riddle in
            pin down            a story abt beauty

            untouch  able ;      

i find two eyes almost as unimaginable by this time

; as a purse
  hits the floor ;      

# posted by hardyf : 14:58