Pornographic Living.

we tip bottles with impunity

as long as we can continue our sanity

taking deep breaths for all those drowned in vanity

and in this jail you only get one call of duty

this is the life you said would never suit me

and now i swim in bottle filled of induced clarity

you continue to pilfer from those who donate pedigree

and now i'm on one knee asking: will you please marry me?

we've got so much in common

we like to jump skeletons so often

pound flesh like we were laying in a coffin

death letters written to ourselves under the hearts we soften

with world wars under utility belts that we down play

to those with no idea of how far back our history rubs

and when i talk about content i tell them it's not like those other ones

we're unique to the point of obscenity we keep our identity

standing in a crowd, alone as an entity

time passes quickly when i'm inside of your infinity

and all my heart is devoted to your ability to make money

i love you for your body and how you live in places always sunny

and there's a bit of a draft between what we love and what we live

even bigger is what we receive and what we choose to give

and that's okay, because you F... the pool boy and i'm in an affair with the school toy

at the heavy teacher's petting zoo, we're gonna grab and fondle you

until you win the sexual science fair with your gorgeous hair that makes the crowd drool

it's an angel hair holocaust with every shower you take

and we can't quite figure out how often you fake

but we know you like it when i grab myself a rake

sift through turf in the undergarments

one day i'll place you in the La Brea tar pits

because your narcissism set me into the mood of crimes to commit

sitting on the sidelines while you wash the dishes and buy me socks

we all know you only married me because you like my...

but that's not the story you like to flaunt to the flock

and there's nothing left over in the refrigerated small talk

from inside out, i microwave all the things we spout to the city block

at the end of my career i was twenty two and i've mooched off of your stock

living in the limelight--giving you everything you can't count to

and now i'm just the strings on your shoe

tied once and tired out of view

now i'm sleeping on the solid decision walking in the freeway.

~Hollywood forever. an essay to write for your enjoyment.

Whiskey induced kisses; i really do love you,

Digress.