FINGER POPPIN

I want it all.
My way.
I want my tongue stuck to a frozen metal pole.
I want to stick my fingers in a hole.
I want to overdose
on under-privilaged under-cover agents.
I want to live with the Lindberg baby.
I want your responses to end with maybe.
You offered me a different kind of truth
smeared with allocations of clipped-art allegations.
Wisdom at your finger-tips:
I'm not so sure
but it's pretty from here.
I want to prove to you that you're sexy.
I want another cigarette.
I want a safe and juicy bet.
I want to know the name behind the handle.
I want to feel pierced with pleasure.
Let's get euphoric
and make the name stick.
You'll never run short on diseases
to spread to the ones who need it.