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Metal Swans in Rain
It feels good to grow a beard
when things turn apocalyptic
Iโve heard tales of a synthesizer
that sounds of metal swansin rain
I am looking for someone to take my will
I am looking for a way to get fucked
and to stay fucked
the rocks appear as flamingoes
come to adjudicate our reckoning
For someone to whisper softly โaestheticsโ
with my head bound and cupped
with my head cupped and bound
I am constantly reminded that I need
a handler. (That you in fact may
read this).
I sometimes wish I could remove my mind
and fuck it with your mind, penetrate it
[Your sunglasses are inside you.]
Q: What does it mean that I want to call you demiurge?
[A kind of fucked that eradicates
all guilt and triviality]
Mine eyes water
obfuscating the hills
And to think we once used margarine.
Itโs hard to talk about... but still letโs talk
from this bridge above the highway
where everyone is leaving town
Birds lie silent on the marjoram landing
Letโs talk about getting fucked, staying fucked
and what we will later do to find food.