Mail order bride
Of Frankenstein
You mock the nature myth
With Internet precision
Waking early
Milking yourself of the excess
Five times a day at least
Something always comes of it
You never get to see
Self soothe the urges
Your passion for lids
You don’t have to attend
Every funeral
You don’t have to pretend
To know
Asses to ashes
Eyes to glasses
Grasses to gasses
Making hay for the Haymaker
Fat kids in the waiting room
Twiddling their devices
Ruling by thumb
There’s more than the first time
And the second time
And the third
There are so many more times
Pick a target
Then pick an ax
A cucumber to grind
A wallet full of salad
Let the wind blow the hair
From your beautiful forehead
We never see it the same way
We were never supposed to
That is why we sing
This is why we play
This is why we dance
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