for william boroughs

night after night, with the stillness of death,
dreams flashing on the screen of the mind,
rasping breath going of like minute bombs
thru’ the constant o of the mouth,
groping hands giving off carbonic fumes,
sculpturing odoriferous forms,
abstract eyes stacked on the face,
glowing with blue metal fires,
phallic obscenity of the nose
exploding with orgasmic bliss,
dream shuddering in white washed dawn light,
pneumatic body sucked of life,
tingling and pulsing with sex phantoms,
scalded dream flesh,
patched and doused with the pathetic perfumes
of the living bearing the scent of dread,
scripts, menus and likes etched on frozen faces,
button feeding back recorded dialogue,
erections and images demagnetized,
it is time to rise and shine.