Varying Constants

Rain be my guide tonight
Direct my aimlessness away from those
who would falsify their claims of honor and respect
I will succumb to gravity
if you will only stay with me
and help me understand the significance of our fall

Pass the Oatmeal Cream Cookies please
I like the image of Little Debbie grinning back at me
but not directly into my eyes
Submissive little snack girls have always been my type
like short-haired women for passivity
and blond-haired women for swine
and brunettes for the in betweens
who will salvage love from broken dreams
that they have wrestled all their lives

Rain be my guide tonight
and wash away these Denmark blues
in which I sense a foul and unnerving acclimation towards
the soft light that blinds us
instead of the real light
that frees us from our eyes

A crude man would have you believe
that the rain is heaven's ejaculate
spent after hours of foreplay above a virgin earth
but I am here to clarify that we in fact are the atmosphere's sperm
and this is not a tragedy being induced by way of precipitation
This is simply the bleach that comes to wash away the stain that is us.

Love be my friend tonight
but only for a night
and we will begin our war again
in which we fight for your dying cause
at the start of the morning light

Don't think for second that I cannot smell
the food-coloringin your pants
that screams like a voodoo dancer
on a summer night in Georgia

My teeth don't belong in your period
but you would have us all believe
you're finished with the process
of flushing
and bloating
and wondering when they'll make jeans
for a normal human being

Isn't that right?
Tonight, while love is being my friend for a night
you'll feast upon the daily routine
of daily bread
because these are the things that adults do

Lie and lose themselves to lies
[it's easier said than done]
when fun is on the line
and moments like these we wish our placenta had been born first
and wrapped in a blanket
as there is no difference between this situation
and the bottom of a medical waste basket

God be my God tonight
and not the shadow out of sight
Be more than a voice to me
that only whispers silently

Men make myths to match their mystery

Mothers make minions to mourn their mark