The First Line is Stolen

I have been one acquainted with the spatula
broad flat melted plastic tip
spattered in BPA
slathered in bacon grease as it lifts
the fried crispy strips of giving into processed hunger  
acquainted with the buzz of manufactured orgasms
a pocket rocket
a lump of plastic in place of a real cock
I've gone out to ruin what love is supposed to be
in the multicoloured chunks of vomit infused with
to numb a heart that felt
that feels too much
its my job as a poet to know where in  
lies the beauty of a moon reflected in
piss that runs warm down the gutter
my kiss screams insanity
it screams that God
is dead
and we killed him
in the charge of the light brigade
inhalation of mustard gas
in concentration camps and gulags
in the terrorist bomber that prays for his virgins
and the corporations that sell us out
to the highest bidder
and why is one month called the cruellest
when we all bleed daily for the sins
of our parents
and the best gamers drive
tanks through city streets  
and whose woods these are
….I wish we knew

#Kim Addonizio
Written by Commentonly
Author's Note
The first line is a direct copy of Kim's first line in this poem
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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