I struggle against temperate, vicarious,

bi-curious bikers leaning against erect statuettes of covered in semen and lye,

with the matte finish of degrading copper.

Risky husks of carcasses carry straight laced cutlasses

for new age penetration.

And only for sixteen innovative sex positions involving a blowtorch,

industrial grade.

Psychedelic titter-totter charms into chloroform stained wristwatches

and LSD.

I'm watching tarnished licks of sedative

taken 3000mg per dosage.

All while the night is young, vibrant and a-light

with risqué encounters by subway turnstiles

and the incessant twanging of rife, roofie small talk

between two parts stereo boom.