Sun Down ; Sun Up

A-Muse-Ing

I see her every night

My sexual muse

Does she circle me, or circle you?

A host of men filling the room

She moves, she stalks

Into my mind, burnt images

Of the way that she walks

In the heart of the city,

Dancing is her part

A touch of clubs,

The struggle for her heart

Dis-Servicing the one

Old grows the dance

Talent becomes the means

A mundane rivalry

A Organ Plays

Form, pride, perverting

Here comes my sick obsession

Singing silently with a pen

Not a realist

Growing dull

O! Father!

Making art haven

That I drown in

Advertising poorly.

Arriving in indifference

Pass the hat around

Blood?

No, not on my hands

Cross over a set of fans

Larks screaming: O!

Self-Infliction

Cutting it out

Inflicting pain

Crowd to catch the one

Going on again

An art for the weak

When to fall is not to fail

Repeating:

Sink! Sink! Swim?

Faking this art is hard

Try, trying, again

Turning shit into a gain

Second verse is the first

Drunk, dripping meaning

To hide the drunken slurs

Sink! Sink! Swim?

Regurgitating how I feel

Perversion on a stage

Won't you scream my name?

Tell me I am good

Ready to sound again?

Tell the tale of who are am

Stolen Moments

I wake! A loan

Room I do not know

I wake! A lone

Pretending this is home

Littering in my wake

Pretending to make

A bed

Lying in it again:

"O! Christ!"

Desperate plea

I wake! I God! I am?

How is there an end to begin with?

Begging with quarters for answers

Ego is my stomach, shitting to feed it

She whispers:

"In the web now,

You cum"

She bits down

At least I can say,

"I am home"