Useless Generation

Smokers hunched over cancer sticks in the rain. Women with bodies boundless in heat. Eyes searching, they connect and seek what they want. They covet, as do I. My illness hidden until it’s too late, I let them in and make them dance to my tune. Their features smeared upon mirrors, the night is red and swollen. It pulsates like sex. Germs at the back of my throat and ripped off fingernails discarded on spiral staircases. A Brunette with the ability to see the future. Real teeth. Real hair. Before the bombs, nature so wonderful. Beauty organic like the way she spread her legs without restraint. Specifics are lost amongst bitten lips. Caressing flesh in the midst of a drunken crusade, nothing can save except for sleep. Sleep through it, and you’ll be okay. Hibernate. Be dormant like a trapped ghost. Wait until the time is right to come alive…