Green Machine

by on June 26, 2018 :: 0 comments

Skin’s had enough of me,
wants to shake itself loose
and leave the meat behind:
strut down the street alone
and unafraid, look without fear
and love without fury.

Who needs a body these days?
Meat and bones rot and break,
but the soul’s a mirrorball
where you bust your moves
flash the ass and just know
I mean know

that you’re safe in the hollows
behind the eyes; they can stare
and glare as much as they like,
you’re nowhere and nothing,
neither man nor woman,
a fluid mess of flesh you can scratch
into any shape you dream,
then leave the rest to rot and ruin:
who needs meat these days?
The world’s turning vegan, baby.

editors note:

No shoulder, no chips; no stiff upper, no lips. Shape to shift as you please. – mh clay

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