hang onto yr ego-o-o

if i think about it
evolution isn't necessarily equivalent
between the genders

we've got big dicks
187 skills
and a functional mind
for survival, sure

but if i think about it
i just want to pump enough blood
to fuck and die

i'm like a drone bee
ready to burn for the cause

i can smell perfume on the wind coming
through the apartment window

i can see curves under fabric
from yards away
and imagine them from fucking acres

i can imagine juggling for hours

or taking over the room with an anthem

and i can lust for jumping only to find
the parachute won't open
and i can see a bloody
splash in a soft
oregon field

turns out
sex and death are so much
hotter cliches
for poetry and music and self-aggrandizing
than i had ever given them
proper credit for