The Love Gun

“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain; he’s going to float away in a balloon anyways,” Christopher Gargas

The walls become porous

Quivering pinpricks of red against wax paper white

skin

Lips by the hundreds

Beckon, curse, suck, pucker, scream, purse

Pulpy and red

quivering

It’s time for them to feed

Yesterday, it was worse; they were eyes

Staring at me, I stabbed them straight out, they bled, and

now this

I slipped one a microdot

Watched it dissolve on her tongue like a communion wafer

the cute pair

just for kicks

Now there’s drool on the floor

At least it’s locked, the door

It would’ve opened by now, it’s breathing, wants to 

cum in hard

Just a turn of the knob

insertion

Assimilation, satiation, titillation

Hey lover, look at me

A degenerate meme

Monsters, agents of torment from a new mindless age

words

assault me

An ocean of humanity one and a half inches deep

lays siege

To my mind

Stroking it ever so gently

I met Lilith once

Under a cold fluorescent light in the street, he even had 

tits

Hermaphrodite that she is

Licking her lips, squeezing his swollen chest

now I ask you

Do I put the pistol in my mouth, or

Nonsense; that’s all this is.

Author's Note

You good men of Sodom, what do you think of this?