Aliens Have Come
Where is the place that I can disappear?
Who will take this nagging angst?
I am a mask, a sexual identity
I am a position in a lost world
She decorates her face like a mannequin
Gives herself away not of lust but doubt
Disconnected, schizoid, souls without life
Hollow empty winds blow over the land
Pleasure only lasts a short while
Run for the shadows of anti depressants
Kiss the dark night of starless mirrors
Orgasms without love, without heart
Chains rattle in Kafka's castle
Strangers in beds of Roman feasts
Vows amidst luxuriant shared despair
Dreams filled with gray Viagra drones
Sex for sale by the money changers
Sex without love for the spiritually dead
Sex as a compensation for a lack of life
Sex as an anti depressant for joyless cogs
Bland poetry from the face lift
Soma from cable TV
Everywhere the herd grows
Invasion of the body snatchers
The Aliens have come
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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