electric youth
in the electric garden

magnetic lust
in the alcohol mist

smoking night rain
steal my mind!
ravage it!
for I no longer want it
a vehicle of purity.

Choose your spot well.
Flag the silicon,
mark the flesh,
your flesh,
for ready consumption.

City jaws are never blunt,
the mythos goes,
in that part of the world,
but here it seems to me
the blunt gums
of a cancer bum.

Sharpen the saw, I say,
cut your fingers,
the skin is a canvas,
and so is the chemical soul
that does not exist.

A piece of tissue
to be electrified.