I absorb the shock of seeing this through—method acting all over again, get down to business, push this bitch off a ledge. Down we go—i did it for the dough: dipshit woman, you do what you know
Irritated as hell, he says what he must. likes to lead me on target on his back. hold fire: you might want to rethink the gambit; fucking in a broom closet, skin white as pearls;
i want to be where the action is—but the action, my friend, is in my head; the fifth dimension makes this possible—no need to go anywhere, to do anything that would, necessarily, be seen . . . we live in my mind;
heaven is for real; thinking, ho-hum, of the math i unfurl. so i want this woman, maybe she’ll lose weight, maybe she won’t; eating all the pastries - put out on a plate. Well, low down woman, if the world was right, then you wouldn’t overeat—or suffer, in the long run, from a longing for God
I’d be here, with him . . . well i think I am make of it what you will, but, low down woman, i know you want it, too well, what am i, friend? what do i become? I want to enforce my motherfucking see-men.
there she is—sent here to destroy my plot
to undercut my brown skinned lover,
a woman that, for better or worse, well,
love, she’s all i’ve got who the fuck are you
talking to? I want to know: is it me or the
local skank you throw? sorry, woman, kind
of like you—you live for the ambition,
and then, above all, you blow my mind,
thinking—well, she’s going the distance;
we’ll see what you think when she’s living
out there; voice of a nation; onto the world,
hold on, now, while I pull up my pants,
leaving the broom closet in a trance -
these women nowadays, look love, they have
bad genes; you do what you can, but some
of them will scream. don’t want to make
anything with you, man, just fuck me, please
if, that is, you really fucking can; sick-o
woman, no shame, no sense, friend, of Him
pass me the decency: i’d like to take a swig
well i’ve said it before—my woman is a prig
you love to dislike her; mouth on my dick,
saving that, I’m afeard, I know the type,
does what’s normal, goes hunting for snipe
Well, that’s no trouble, I’ll shape her for
them—the men that love her, no matter where
she’s been.
Maybe, now, I love you a little less, can’t imagine that you’d love me, at this stage: I’m just a body that you’d use up and, ultimately throw away . . . well that’s ok, bitch, because you and I feel the same way . . .
Wishing i, darling, was good enough; adequate, for starters—everybody should know my name, considering, as I do, the creations i tame
sick as shit for somebody to love—if, then, they’re a fundamental component of my creations. Well get with me—lose fifteen pounds, think of the way, then, that He’ll look at you—nobody ever looked at me that way before
maybe in the kitchen I’ll invest: put my hands, then, all over your chest: well, flopping around, you’re fucking killing me . . . I’m hung up, now . . . on snow-white skin
complicated man—in love with a demon,
that woman is a cat on a hot tin roof -
if, then, I was with her, I’d dress up, too
this is the house, friend, of the rising son
i’m here to claim, for good, a combination
polyamorous man, coming for me, I see him
out there, hanging, alive, from a fucking tree
well bring on the assassin, you can’t get
to me—i’m protected by the future, a period
i know: i wouldn’t do anything to
jeopardize the show. white-skinned woman
how racist of me! I can’t fucking help it
I want the woman i see; well, if you’ll have
me . . . but you don’t feel this desire,
you live for the money . . . i’ll never retire
holy cow, then, chemical castration -
sounds to me like you’re crossing a line
low down woman, i’ll change your mind
you treat the bad guys to His condition,
a screaming bald conscience, as opposed,
friend, to a contradiction. Here I am -
brown skinned mama, I’m feeling bland,
how can i abuse what i can’t withstand
well the forces of evil would tear us apart
coming off the risperidone, fucking a
tart—crazy powerful women, i love them
all—how can I quit when I’ve gone this long?
No good man, no good man meant for me,
well he only wants what’s powerful to me:
Not so, dame, I want to make a difference;
can i help it if, at a certain point, business
and pleasure will get combined?