Dissimilations

You hold onto life like a hostage. You're deeply embedded.

You're an actor slipping into a new script. You're a comma

Whose purpose is to mark the moment when prose is suspended,

Where begins a poem's pensive silence or some dark drama.

You're a Charles Dickens character in the opium den

Of a long life. All you want is to sleep through the nights after

Satisfying intercourse, but your mimesis may have been

Caught by sexually transmitted diseases. Disaster

Is an evening when you're so hungry every apple core

Evokes grocery stores. Being the only one and only,

They can't clone or disown you. The only thing you lack is your

Adult teeth, beneath the rotten teeth of what makes you lonely.

And the truth is that devolution concurs with disposal

Till it emerges, when entourage lobbies for Decalogue,

And hype is the new preparation before its proposal,

Calling for the removal of all shoes, shirts, and demagogues,

And the zealous anti-Orientalists who refuse to

Use anyone's last names first when denying them service at

The sperm bank, where the preferred euphemism is "super glue."

Remember the joke about the butcher who couldn't get fat?

Rejuvenated vaginas and enhanced penises squeak

Thanks to Puritanism gone gaga vis-à-vis bling-bling

À la bada bing. People piled up form a sexual peak.

Two condoms put up their dukes inside a contraceptive ring.

Champagne is the new organizer for your political

Campaign to conceive something tantamount to FASD

Of the spirit. Were you surprised or did you wax critical

When you emerged from the driveway to your domesticity

Without any disease but your family's questionable

Cultural history? Is it such a mystery that your

Mediocrity's latently poised to emerge? That you're full

Of traditional vulnerability? You'll pace the floor

Until you face (at a number of paces proportional

To the gravity of the insults that have been thrown your way)

Yourself dressed like a clown. Your brain will halt to urbanely sprawl

And then catapult your past beyond your future like a clay

Pigeon across a clear blue sky, toward a lemonade stand

At which the theory of other minds attempts to explain

Why petroleum prices fluctuate with body count and

Meaningful relationships end in kaleidoscopic pain.