withering boy, great like a
man, a real one, two, three
can you still count, fading faucet?
example of love and loves untrue,
untidy, i wonder what would happen
if i broke you open and
took apart what's inside, pieces,
clockwork man working and running,
foreign fuel rusting your insides, brass and
silver, you were made for this, born for it
weren't you? but i don't believe in fate,
destiny and its kind, you could be
so much more
than a smoke-run robot
with alcohol for
blood
(and i won't go on believing
that i could fix you, but you could
fix yourself,
couldn't you?)