by Daniel Wilcox
Many ‘amor’ or less youth sold One
For counterfeit coins of whim,
Pigged out sluicing the trough on
Fool’s ‘mental,’ tin-canned
Eye-nailing gyrated skin;
Along with prodigal’d millions
Bowed by the thin luster of delusioned media;
(Easy cash, easy go—so easy),
Posed broads-cast out from the Trojan net,
Yes, sleazy mindless you’s
Knock, knock, knocking their prodded gaze
Up tawdry lasses of loss
Who’s there?
Aborted relations,
In the ‘guilted-less’ age,
Or hug-noosing themselves with guilt--
A modern secular ‘whoreship.’
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