A Brief Study of Sexual Tension and Babble: Notes from the Dead Letter Office

Sometimes I wish
I had a leash for my libido
Teach it how to heal
Keep it clean
Away from the outside world
Not let run away
With my imagination
In hot pursuit

Tucked away
Alone with hard wood
Nothing to do
Not knowing where to look
Times like these
It wouldn’t be so bad

To fuck
Like a washing machine
Mechanically pounding
Against walls
Making awkward sounds
That you would never admit to
Anger management creative release
An event of static fluid dynamics
And devolved friction

Our little lives
Caught between
Thighs like earmuffs
Pubic hair Hitler mustache
Always wondering
What it looks like
From way up there

Nothing to do
Jacking off
We know how it ends
On film, credits rolling
Second cumming
Where the fuck is this going?

Drunk with passion
Desires and manifestation
Putting demons to rest

To Experience one’s self
Away from the physical
Pondering and living
Proof somewhere buried
Pudding comes to mind

An orgasm in an amazing thing
Like the creation of a universe
A symptom of the human condition
Hot and bothered
Tethered to the irrational
A clash of lust and temperance
And pure embarrassment

All this cannot be compared to
The arousal of cognitive arousal
Yet isn’t everything relatable
When haunted by ghosts
And childhood trauma
Detached from reality
Always through dysfunction

Sedated cattle
Unquestionable allegiance
To the big media feed trough
Allergic reactions
To the big brand suck off
The box needs to be fed
Because I won’t stop screaming

Lacking bubbles
Thugs and bitches
Incredible waste of time
A definition of cruelty
Phone numbers and small talk
Wondering what we could do
Only in my head
At least I didn’t get any on my glasses

Up at odd hours
Tag along fuck buddies
Divisible by needs wants and desires
Unexplored examples
Of juke box flunkies
Hipster trash bullshit
Swaying along
Devoid of their own reason
I think of lack

Kind words for a cold heart
Contained within a 365/6
Revolutionary process
A war worth waging
Simple easy, digestible
By design

All those nasty cracks
A whatever weakens
For the opposite sex
Temptation and arousal
Whatever that means
I’ll just finish


(April 24, 2009)