Again your pretty
whoring for the camera.
You assemble an immaculate array.
A legion of a thousand faces
all the same, pageant and parade, made
masking a one woman masquerade.
Cheek to cheek with your self-
men your ramparts, catacomb by mirror-
ball barricades. Another
party to dally cruel age. The hung-
over, the casualties, the night stand, the one-
too-many, the keep-an-eye-out honey, the haze,
the cupid's stray, the rival bitch,
the dumb fuck, the wanton siege,
the breaches on, the pull-
to your keep, the rack upon
where wretched guilt in vain is torn apart,
the doubtless dungeon of your heart.