Venus Fly Trap

There is a stirring in my chest,
an elation I will not and cannot resist.
There was once a moment where all of life stood still
and my feet grew heavy
barren heavy.
Completely empty
and ready to fall.
There is a fire down below
where the depths of sight can’t grow.
It still feeds off my worried brain
like a fetus planted hover-vein.
The Venus Fly Trap sets its will
spiked teeth ready, for the kill.
There is a place where spider webs
and crawling things fit for nub ebb.
All my flagrant floppy body
deteriorates, demotivates, deregulates
into a monster of the fiendish kind
one where holographic glass goes blind.
there is a feed that sucks in silt
it still eats grits, their shiny pelt
slimy, sloshes, ready, in
frigid waters’ under-grin.
Come follow me, dear Venus Trap
into a submarine unsnap
there is a blooming in my groin
where dead things lay there
shivering.

Brain Porn

Dear, let me tenderize you like meat. slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil.

dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe.

dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking.

Incinerating flames that lick the grate.

dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same.

Dear, let me slice it open and suck out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice,

My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind.

dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you.

dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff.

let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality.

Let me get to know you and all your originality.

let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions.

let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time.

let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while fingering your sense of self-esteem.

Dear, let me dream your dreams.

dear, let me sink my dirty mind games into your wet social brain. don’t let the pressure get to you.

passion may play a key part in the sway!

let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives.

let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobolt eyes.

let me feel the hot loins of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions.

let me analyze your prerogatives and fuck with your distribution methods.

dear, let me fiddle with your political views,
(in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom.

let me fondle your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst!

dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent.

let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy!

let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses.

let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words.

dear, let me dance with your intelligence
until we sink into oblivious mind-sex bliss…….

E-BRAIN

Tumble me dry, tumblr. Watch my face convulse, facebook, as I twit on twitter, flat-lined flitter, flutter over people’s flat-screen faces come hither. Buzzkill me, buzzfeed. Feed me nonsense information forcing conceited quizzed contemplation. Watch the world butter me sideways. Touch the touchscreen and feel my glass crack. Trip over nonsense, inflate my inner senses. Instigate me, Instagram. Pin me to the board, pinterest. Read me, reddit. Afflict me, amazon. Feed my jungle money, strip my rainforest dead, peel away my imagination until it turns red. Self-indulge me by taking selfies in self-denial hurries that skirt real imagination and innovation into fashion updates and tweets, repeat, repeat, repeat. Speak to me, internet. Don’t let me forget. Caught in your web, your net of compulsion, contradictive addiction completely addicting my hyper-mind set-straight shoot out all the information I find into my mind. Cuddle me with your spam emails. Humor me, ifunny entrails. Play with me, paypal. Online banking, take my money, get to spanking. Blow me, blogspot. Bog my blog with new followers forgetting how to breathe, becoming all about the speech and not about the person underneath. Yell for me, youtube. Hear what I can’t explain, explain what I can’t hear, don’t underestimate my understanding to equate commotion from collecting comments like a new comet. Fill my wardrobe up with those words, posted online to see yourself heard. Ok me, Ok Cupid. (Do I look like I’m stupid?) Grope me, google. See all my worth. Find out everything about me. Grin and grumble grotesque images on absolutely everything. Spy on me, internet. Fondle me, fanfiction.net. Adore me, archive of our own. Dance, my style, find me a flair or ship to roam. Blog with me, bloggers, so far from home. Yodel me, yelp. Help me find the place to be. Help me find a place to eat. Computers are not the only things that can set my spirit free. Download me pornhub, rub me gentle until I weep virtual tears. Extrapolate my fears. Like-me. Thumbs Up-me. Click-me. One free app and words with friends fills me up, dead end. Addiction to, contradiction to, addicting games group together, luring my weary brain into a strange, captured love story. A saga that never ends, only dies and repeats repeats repeats again and again and again. Ribbons of denial demarcate and deactivate my detox off all apps, the apple of my eye, but breaking the sticky lines between real and reality can get busy. It can get messy in a tizzy of time. Greet me, gmail. Let me encompass the world through email. E-late the progress. E-light the process. Don’t let possessive processors and tricky technology drag me into its giant data-coded clutches. (I’m much too smart and precious!) Let me be invisible after I log completely off. There, that’s better. Now where was I prof?