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love in the astro-fittings —
a good o-ring
can take you a long way my dear
leave you hanging from a pointy star
or grinding the asteroid belt
for a homey android
who’s on top is frequently out of focus
so binoculars may be necessary
by the time you dream up
another constructed identity
the robot crabs have made off
with your bullet-proof nirvana
already hot-wired to the panopticon
I read all your solo settings
offer metal nipples tongue up
the technician’s loose files
while hacking systems against the grain
indirection to your hidden tool
before distortion jams the graphics
desired darkness lies in wait
its face displaced by a pregnant void
how many syllables julio?
sounds like. . .
pulling buildings up by the teeth
(wisdom not included) my lipstick
traces are only a click away
forensic first words
captured in a bubble
base to bridge: ‘your escape module
is clogged at the quadruple bypass’
needles thread your lids shut
nearer my lord to thee
‘you’ll never see my eyes’
(so what? every time I call
I get the same deep-throat menu)
twin mirrors track
my flesh-kit prowl up your lazy
jack of pain
in hairy houdini darkness
I have come
to dismantle the sun
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