Infidelity
Spouting from the Mind of the Cosmos
A broken, shattered column
Display art for the unwavering uninitiated
The solipsism of internal rage
Gets stifled by long tall drinks
The arching back of a lent lover
Creates a false mural projection
Distraction for fear of rejection
He holds more in his hand
Than a paint bucket of blood
That drips down from a brush
Made out of her hand-picked
Braided hair
But she still believes in a mystery
And semantics orchestrated
Fate
As did she and the ones before her
While resting upon
A communal bedsite, homage to an addiction
To pain
It's not your life that is lost
It's not your luck that has run out
Maybe it's that persistent unibrow
And long lasting unhandled, bristiling
Faint handlebar moustache
Learn to take care of yours and own
When it's already too late
And you are evidently dead
Saved only by a victory
Brought about by manhandled misogyny
And the insights of a generation
blowing fuses in fits of anger.