gripped through filth
in an unkept earthen cellar
beaded chain stood momentarily taut
as if petrified by what the light revealed

3, 4 methylenedioxymethamphetamine/
A salon/
Flushed flesh/
yapping fucking mutt./

Ivory education occupies/
demands recompense; struggle/
Pipers mad reel carries bleeding feet behind./

Two crows alight/
well pleased./

--
Come! REAP!

char-you-tree.

so there i was -
rapidly approaching yellow bollards
and thinking i smelled bacon.
i thought to myself
"breakfast would be good"
swerving at the last moment.

skidding into the Denny's parking lot.

So there I was. Long, long night, my head fogged with sleep, my lip cracked...bleeding. why? I don't really remember. God damn. It still haunts me...two little mouths kissing and sucking at me, pulling obediently at my balls, teasing my nipple, tongues fighting to get a taste of what makes me the same as every man...

It's funny...when you have one hand stroking your balls and one hand rubbing your bald head, the strange electricity that is all too easily created. It makes your skin ache, your muscles twitch, makes it so hard, impossible to avoid being content, the edge that normally dwells inside sinking down into the soft flesh pressed into either side of you.

And then, of course, once it stops, the monster remerges, stronger than ever, and you want to taste blood, you want to despoil, rape, you want to hear the two whining about how much they hurt, how much they've suffered, how much they want to suffer, again, when at last you allow them to taste, again, of that thing that makes you the same as other men, the meat dangling into their mouthes, your pelvis crushing down onto two faces...