Lord of the Humans

I ridicule the bronze boy
Who sits on the Skid Row bench
Tainted fingers of motor oil
Stench of August sweet
Dribbles under his Adam’s apple
His throat muscles down
A can of Budweiser

I fly making donuts around his head
Then silently pound
On his brown flesh
Cleverly hide in the depths
Of his arm hairs
The fool waddles and thinks
He’s exempt of my wrath

The naive human
Doubts my wings of majesty
I play a game
Rock to each of his sunburned arms

The mule has limited reach
Yet, he prides himself as ruler of
Concrete palace of sewage
He forgets that my offspring will be
The ones feeding on his steak
The demon smacks his own arms
In a pathetic plea to end me

He fears this
Both shoulders ooze at the buzz
That I mockingly whisper at his earlobes

I fly and lay under his eye socket
Warm but filthy
My legs extend
I feel the course of flesh
That will soon be but a mattress

“Get the fuck out here”
He shouts

Dull boy!
Why must he deny some play?
Like a prude catholic gal
He acts like a temple of the Holy Ghost
Cries at my weightless touch

Mother fucker
Does he not know?

I am the eyes of God
He who sees nothing but a puny child
With overdue narcissism
I’ve witnessed his lonely sing-a-longs to ABBA
And the summer nights
Where he drenched his bed sheets
With tears of cocaine and salt

I am the mouth of Satan
She who has suckled the finger tips
Of dead hit-men
Killed by the desert sun
And I’ve drenched upon
The melted corpse of a buffalo

I am the feet of an angel
Leeching from the riches of
And a fat man’s golden bricks

The bronze boy fears me
For I have seen more than him!
Done more than him!
Feasted more than him!

But damn it

He owes me a thanks
Because he well knows
I’ve given him more damn
Than any man or woman
Will ever give him


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