You needful sex man, where are you,

You churn the air with lover’s spats.

You light your sky and burn my dew.

But now you dawn those baseball bats.

I’m sorry that the world’s so crass,

where sickness grey and booger green,

and parties lend a soulful lass,

can make you sore and make you mean.

So broken zeus, you goose that top.

You’re tummy hangs from buttons, loose.

You wipe those chips from off that crop.

You’re hands, they lay on my caboose.

You’re standing there, so cold, so tight,

but now, it ends, your life so calm,

a useless man, so old and blight.

The nothing leaves, the nothing psalm.

If only you had left your coats, 

then maybe at the end, so tight

on closet’s hangers in your moats,

You’d wrap yourself, this colder night.

It wouldn’t green with mold so gross,

and then you’d feel the warmth so near.

We wouldn’t have to stand so close.

And then I wouldn’t shed a tear.

So husband near and husband far,

your drowning in your lonesome tears.

You’re stuck in sand, you’re stuck in tar.

You’re leaving in your greatest fears.

Controlling this, controlling hale,

Controlling nothing that is real,

And you’re so stupid, ‘alpha male’,

Your stupid women search in zeal.

This confusion you’ve related, hex,

Forming mass intense illusion, throng.

Forced deceptions you’ve created, sex,

So your weaker mind looks stronger, long.

For, where are you, my little dove.

And where are you my tiny troll.

And, where, the bridge, I’ll give a shove.

You’re buried in a deeper hole.

Structure is as structure does.

Your head is sky and feet are ground.

Your brains, alone, they’re never found.

Your fingers showing, chicken wings

As if they were the hanging blings.

So little child, where and true,

And growing, never, with your girl?

You hide as always, zeal and dumb,

Within your mask, where life’s not real.