Plump, full and pristine
They make the act fulfilment look easy
Success stories plastered all over the tag
But like a Polaroid sex selife
That’s a lot of effort put into looking effortless
“I’m like this all the time” through crocodile teeth
Thanks for the vote of self-consciousness
Cos surely, oh surely it isn’t just me
Screaming for affection, echoing back retaliation
Looking at success and content, like a Roswell autopsy
I recognize elements for sure, but they’re so far from me
Surely I’m not the only one beating their heart against a wall
Drawing dust from the monument of the lovers call
It wouldn’t be so bad if I was packing with ignorance
We’re all twiddling our clits and dicks on a conveyor belt
Picking our social barraging chips from the shelves
A pinch of E for you, a doctors prescription for me
What I mean to say is I never wanted the barrier to increase
For the quota to get even more precise then before
But you’d think I’d just struck the gold mine
Ticket tape parades on the park benches
Congrats! Now you know a lot more about yourself!
But now I know less about my world then with my eyes shut
Now, I don’t mean to be cynical but this doesn’t feel better…
I can’t repeal the ideal outcome from my mind
A single bedroom pad, with resources seconds away
Come barging back from another book signing
The Queen and The Goddess both turn in tandem
Grasping salvation in my hands; a family meal deal
And after they both pin me down, teeth gritting, demands in hand
Complying line by line, like a good slave oughta
There’s no doubt in the efficiency the format provides
As we’re recovering our vitality arms in arms
To white trash youtube until the break of dawn
But in a world of keyword comms, what’s of point of it?
1,000 pets and funnymen won’t posses the quota of wit
Cos surely, oh surely it can’t just be me?
That’s had every dream and idea, slowly taken away?
Domestic Poetry 