The Young Man Ma-I-D/E a Need

Both perfect
Head and betrayal
Feign immorality

My allegiance to the distants
Is like smiling
Squatting naked
Over the mirror

Witha shit
Smear moustached lip
And two fingers
In my ass

Our longing need
Sorting and desires
Renegotiating. my own
Joan of arc's bones kicked
Around-

Unwound spine
And fingered eyes
Found nothing
To lose is all we have
And shame our finest luxury

But when we say we
As in all of us
Arent we really just asking
All of who and who is we?

And why can't this we stop all this blowjobishness?