Confessions of the Human Props

Human props,

first in entertainment,

then a reality of industry itself.

Frustrated lust returns 

to create an object 

out of the narrow obscure charm

of a thick bodied

wannabe bourgauis.

My presence is a mystery,

I cannot afford my confusion

or my play by design.

Work the crowd,

teach them about Mendelian 

concepts of nuance or structure.

Paid by the hour,

I literally  give my time

and nothing else.

Present for the sake of

presence,

and hourly pay.

They are but tributaries

singular on to each day.

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Neo twist Incarnate

Neo twist incarnate,

grounded, the spirit does see all.

Bleeding, seeped ink

and stained counters,

tell repulsive truths about law

and attraction.

Power, proof positive,

and old open bottles, 

and wounds.

Sink now, not built to last,

only to kill a few minutes.

History, at the touch

of a button.

Do you not have the George Washington app?

It doesn’t cut a cherry

it pops it.

Salutes.

It is the American way.