Better Than Beans On Toast.

 


Lewd, screwed and imbued.

Filled with what the fuck was that;

drugs, and snake-charmers hugs in spoiled foil

fucks them over, hypnotize the despise

into lies, beyond mascara laden cries.

Sucking, fucking. Who the fuck’s looking

at pustules pissing puss and blood?

Track-marks float, skin-septic spokes,

choked veins strained and screaming,

tortured, steaming, fucked yet gleaming eyed.

The needle piercing, not into an optic nerve just yet;

instead the flaccid penis feels the silver stainless steel

penetrate and flood the blood, unforgiving