Bend over and Wait

true love is a dream
that wakes up
and blends everything into itself


life has meaning
everything makes sense


sometimes it is more than this
sometimes much less
without it


then life becomes all expectation
hope running nervous at the edges
that are frayed
where they have been gnawed by doubt


too weak in the end to hold together
under the terrible weight of disappointment
which is always the result
of seeking true love
while being unable to truly love


real love is more rare than a bankers tears
more rare than sacrifice in a politician
yet it is what gives us life
still


we dream and wonder


and bend over and wait...


the physical eye is aflame and
intoxicated with form


golden Barbies and volleyball gods
symmetrical curves and perfect lines
youth without brains and
as cruel as a cat


the fruit of imagination
the object of desire


the plain ones cry-
"choose me!"
"no me!"
"sprinkle me with fairy dust."
"smile and break my heart."
bend over and wait...


"image is everything."
in that case imagine Agase sodomized with a tennis racket
an excellent image
caught by Canon
seeming...
somehow...
vulnerable in this new light
lets see that one again
i know
bend over and wait...


life is television and television
is life
there on the mindscreen to digest
serve it with blood in a beaded glass
put the shine of romance on your beckoning ass
while you
bend over and wait...


ah
the wait
the expectation...


small bumps of excitement dot the cheeks
the sphincter contracts
and in a circular twist
its length is rimmed with invisible tongues
slick sweet death to the max
"oh!"
"now!"
"now!"
"now!"
bend over and wait...


visible beauty
the desperate lie
they came here
and confused attention with love
notoriety with fame


and not even death and rebirth
has given them any depth


these tragic shells with nothing inside
they slide through the scenery
as the scenery
crying to the world


"long for me!"


"desire me!"


"lay awake at night and dream of me!"
(clench your stomach tight with need)
but
"don't touch!"
"don't touch!"


let them milk your desire like bees among the flowers
and
bend over and wait...


they slide like snakes in the moonlight
over dark glass
they mate with their own vacant forms
moving millimeters apart


never touching
and always out of reach


two dimensional poster art


the blue television light flickers
and halos their face
lit with the blood-light of swallowing fate


they dance before you and sing


"bend over and wait."


"bend over and wait."


they break the heart like glass
with their cold hard beauty


hard and cold and hard and


adamantine


and valued
as diamonds are


by those who covet what cannot feel
bend over and wait...


bend over and wait...


we are presently dead
actually asleep
and in a dream


buried in flesh


everything is backwards


we wake up when we die


god is playing hide and seek
while you


dream of being serviced by a cyborg
that television said was real


television said
"get excited!"


television said
"let them sit on your face!"


television said
"you should live for this."


and


if they are late?
yea
you know


bend over and wait

Patrick Willis narrates:

Bend Over and Wait