It’s cool to be totally lacking in hope.
Fool me once, you know,
but fool me twice, and it’s orgasmic.
Sliding up and down the grayscale
brings the pleasure of a lifetime,
lays it mangled at your craggy feet,
saying ‘Ain’t it nifty?’
Thoughts range from air purifiers
to overdoses to gay space communism.
Without a working definition,
one could achieve complete self-mastery.
Has thou considered
the web of mystery contained
within the gleaming eyes of a doll?
I sure haven’t, but then again,
I’ve lost all things to consider.