I sit here and anticipate the pain
As I reflect on this most recent
Revolution around the sun
Alone in a steamer trunk full of memories
Your seductive smile from across the room
Has hardened into a glare of disdain and
Contempt which freezes my heart with each icy glare
Your scent like jasmine flowers wafting on a  cool breeze
Filling my aura with joy has soured
Into putrid and stagnant pools of revulsion
Your laughter once the driving force behind my self-esteem
Has been silenced by disgust and horror
My wit no longer clever to your mind
My sarcasm no longer endorsed by your approval
These tattered remnants of hope drift
Between my fingers like a moth eaten quilt
Once my muse, my reason for creating, the inspiration for the god within
Has taken flight for another star
And left me with this ink stained scar

Entering a world composed of surreal images
My mind must twist itself into difficult yoga poses
Attempting comprehension of the madness
Black aprons meander in rhythmic gyrations
Under harsh soul stealing luminescence
Lubricated with coffee to perform
Menial machinations miserably
I am but a tourist
On their macabre island full
With nightmarish denizens
Of this local purgatory
The poet dreamt of no circle
As dreadfully inhabited as this sinister strata
Easily a septante of sins sordidly succumbed to by soulless citizens
Apathetic arrogance masquerading as hospitality
While decency and morality are assaulted
According to the overlords abusive schedule
I am struck mute with paralytic paranoia
As I hurriedly set my offering upon the altar
And search for exact change

I come back everyday for greater rewards
But all I ever receive is not equal to the effort
Not on par with the suffering demanded daily
I tap, poke, kick, and scratch in time
With the incessant metronome of desire
This hunger satiated never
Since the initial bite
A primordial bellow of the ego awakened
Bleating as a lamb starved for mother's milk
I shovel mammoth loads into this blistering furnace
Only to watch them drift into the vacumous vortex
Fighting as I do to escape the suction
That tries to pull me under and through
I become weary, sickly, and gaunt
A testimony on high delivered from on low
As I shake and rattle and speak in tongues
Thick spittle foaming from my epileptic lips
A full body excitation of orgiastic hope
That on the other side of this prayer
I will find that elusive reward

She dies so elegantly
Glorious gore
Sublimely spattered
Across my senses
Watching crimson syrup
Pool stickily on the floorboards
Putrid tang of copper
Wafting up as I inhale
From the core of my soul
The sudden realization that
Cold has a taste as
I gently lick her life
From my stainless blade
Her banshee death wail
Resonating in my skull
Like a struck gong
Titrating in decibel
Like a tuning fork
As her spirit slowly spirals
Down the drain toward her
Own mortifying vision of hell
Her heart and vitals strewn about
The flat like soiled laundry
Gives rise to a fire in my *****
As my chakras glow with the
Insatiable blood lust burning
In the furnace of my desire
I take a step
Give the sign and
Exit on the square

I dance
And when I dance
I dance
With her
I dance
Across the room
On the thin blade of a rapier
I dance
Her into walls and
Over splintered tables
I dance
Her into the shower where
She huddles fetally as she
Awaits the next act
I two step and waltz her
Down staircases
Tango with her
Through doorways
I dance
And when I dance
I dance
With her
Because she always
Allows me to lead

My morals are a patchwork
Stitched together from various other minds
A well worn quilt I wrap myself in for security
For blameless justification of a deformed belief system
Twisted and gnarled with an arthritis of the spirit
A hollow vessel made into a crock ***
Full of someone else's *******
Stirred by resentment
Stewed in fear and
Served with anger
To mask my ignorance and indifference
I have a reputation for trivialities
Snippets of soundbites
Subliminally soldered
Onto my sub-conscious
Where they acquire the character
Of authoritative wisdom
More pious than a prophet!
Holier than an ancient sage!
I am a 21st century shaman
A guru grifter
Embryonic episodes
Aborted for mass consumption
Over cocktails and hor dourves

Huddled in a cocoon of my own grime
Forlorn and wasted from my own trick
“She's hot,” she says from across the
Room filled with helium and gauze
You don't need words to make a statement
It's very difficult to be that *****
I suffer from delusions of
Illusions of grandeur
Pomp and circumstance
My theme song
I've graduated to this degree of decadence
Or is it dereliction?
I always get those two confused
Which is the one where
Ripple wine and crack *******
Are preferable to
Caviar and pink champagne?
No matter
I am equally distant from both
“Who does that,” she mutters
As she watches a
Woman in stilettos
Being urinated on by a
Hairy man on the *** channel
I sit with my ink pen and
Draw black eyes on the
Models in women's magazines
She turns to me
“Are you even listening?”
This pale, shelled out
Husk of a former woman asks
I'm listening
I retort within my own shackled mind
But if I pay attention
I just may **** us both