Soak sugar in a black shiny chrysalis,
Blow torch the sack to blind dumb cruel,
Educate the residual boy in bumbling crude vision,
From the sweet stuff he is but a fool.

Low grade tension sturgeon eaten alive,
The minutes drag to percussive pitch,
Resolve in head the garbage that aches,
From the other end he is just a bitch.

Solidify an instinctive pause for the light,
Cum wither, hither, or even today,
The mother earth breathes out children,
A touch is sacred no matter the loss this way.

Chafe the built up aggressive blood,
Fantasies are the moms and dads that grudge,
Bungee off the cursed retardation strain,
The candy realms and falsehoods judge.

Roll me up in the boredom that kills,
Find a kiss that just might starve my heart,
Sacrilegious saccharin, a tiny pink packet,
You promise that you’ll tear me apart.

©2004 / revised 2012 Christopher Vaughn
This is inspired by the track: “Sweet Stuff” from the seminal electronic band Click Click.


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