Masturbating to Death & Taxes

Situationally par for remorse
motions dilligent searching for recourse
today as your manhood shrinks
& you spit your teeth into the kitchen sink
you peek magnifyingly close
to the cavernous cavities of your former enamel post
it makes the shape of a fist
& drags itself across your wrist
the grinding achievement
is a binding agreement
only no blood, nothing does the trick
when the world made your skin so thick
of which one layer is madness
and a tougher outer layer of a morbid foulness
bloodshot & tearing you take the mirror
trying to deny you've been dead for years
ironic is the placid apathy
like your blood is still pumping but your heart has atrophied
it's bitter bones and broken hands
jerking off to the american dream and & i'm too tired to stand
so swim i must, in this wading pool of blood & semen
a million half-lifes looking for fallopian freedom
to find my tile flood at their demise
today jerk-offs the american dream dies
somewhere in the cervix of your capitol building
i manage to stand prostrate, naked, and here i will die, willing.

*the italicized lines are by Neilson