continents

Nicotine dream oozing from the toilet seat
Waiting

To be flushed, then go spiraling counter-clockwise
Down the drain

The lime juice, the spoon, a tiny baggie
Containing Chinese debris as white as
The light side of the moon

Pretty soon you’ll be whistling Dixie while
Me, I’ll smile whilst singing inside
A different kind of tune

What blood-type are you?

Close your eyes then try to find
The love I hide
Behind

My mind you recline, beside yourself
In a prone position clutching
Your cell-phone

You begin this admission: you are prone
To accidents, mistakes, and heartbreak

Mon Dieu! an unfortunate condition,
I think, as we change
Positions

You fake your orgasm,
My muscles spasm

Then, I slip into the chasm which
Exists

Between these two continents
Of our happiness and
Our discontent

Another accident planned

For the opposites that attract
One another-

Duck for cover

Under these sheets, beneath
These covers

Lover

Let us fuck
Again

And again until some of this begins
To make dollars or sense