monkey of the mind

chaos in the perfect world  is
 the dick - held monkey of the mind
doubt walking reluctant on a leash

 a  lathered up morning spit
holds the  razor to the   faceless mirror 
 questioning motives that are dieing to live

i  squeeze out the cluttered   reasoning
from the wrong side of the tube

smacked in the bloody cold of truth
in  splashed up facefuls
 crashing  into that neat perspective
of a corporate suit and tie
 
masturbating  into a car commercial
 the life of junk yards is red
wearing  the monkey like an  iron stain
rust in a  toilet bowl ring
around the finger
of a rodeo drive pop sucked

a six pack of empty cans
under the bed collects bones
a gargled breath and false teeth
grind out false dreams behind the curtain
 
the animal   dances on butter today
I make you in an unmade bed
my breath feeds the baboon 
chicken wings and sex
 scratching  your back to the black fingernails of
greased up  monkeys

I buck you like a movie star
in neat cinema shots and angles
far away ecstasies on  Gilligan's  island
where monkeys jack into  cameo bars
and I autograph your lips
with something fashionable