Pop Culture

the sharpest crack from the boxers jaw, a symbol of prosperity to those who place reality in syntax (mediocre vulgarity) a stick of shaken veins gripped firmly in my owners hand waiting, panting, prisms of red, purple, amethyst expressions grown in the autumn air this city is a row of dancing stars, glistening from the tail whip of the moon— tasting of her peeled flesh all the while saying Blackberry, BlackBerry conscience, a forgotten craftsman brew simplistic concoctions for daytime reality television; White Russians, Dirty Martinis, Vodka Tonic, You and I; (cultural remedies) please just one look through the kaleidoscope whiskey wishes never getting passed the screen door, graveyard excuses a abscess buffet we dine in pouring mucus mojitos (synthetic designer abuses) unlike the wino sun bathing societies orphaned child, we have found a name for self ruin the title-- Experience, the great scapegoat (thank you Oscar Wilde) hypocrisy runs deep a bottom without legs a contraceptive with no tip “To be, or not to Be” cynics sipping cyanide feasting on optimism a glass; murdered sex raising up (don’t forget to tip the maitre’de)