some shining steel rail
from bangor to mighty maine
(a sign before a fire signs)

now that the drunk jocks have stumbled into a ditch
only to set themselves on fire
i can sell you a bit of land
burning a hole in
my sweaty pocket
grabbing my
own hard(ish)
dick

(relax, it’s just words)
(relax it’s just a dick)

from the ditch to the  farmland

rows of corn with mechanical, regular beauty step
(left-foot)
(right-foot)
stamping robots in the New Mexico sunlight
all amped-up, ready to give the very best
(blowjob/handjob/courteous refund)
(yes, more wang-references)

now, my fermented-eyes roll back in my skull
unable to remember my obligations
always able to imagine you
sucking dick
(this is a theme, so fuck off)

and I ruin  your eyeliner

and you hustle to your illegal Korean Kar

did I mention the dying sunlight?
oh, now that is some poetry, man!

HERE’S THE THING:

my dream will rip down Hawaii like lava
and when you are not safe, the “shitting process”
is the real thing that finally eliminates you from my body
(no matter what dildo-powered fantasy you wrote out to justify my face)

i am always a monster

always a monster

a monster

at the end of the day
red hydrogen falls down
cop cars roll to a stop at six-o’clock
men chat loose words, happy to be employed

gnats twirl on sunbeams

Text and Images © Andrew Auten – All Rights Reserved