Alter

cathy cathode raised me when momma wasn't there (which was frequently)

and fun and games console my soul wholey; a flashback to my delinquency.

say ga-ga. say, Sega
say goodbye to my drive

no sooner free from the uterus and into toys r us,
where i'm lost in a temple of tat.
neglegence tells me to cry
and dad'll hear the tears through a muffler of beers
and the fuss'll make his wallet russle,
coz it's easier than tussle;
than having to deal with the hustle and bustle.

baptised in binary and branded Mckenzie,
sidekick to my siblings Carbrini, Diadora and Elise,
there wasn't much choice outside the crappy shopper,

so that's what i learnt.

that's what made me proper.

later in life, when i t1ed the kn0t,
to a mail order wife, who wanted what she got,
it was down the aisle of the House of Frasier.
,,,i tried to ALT+R at the altar,

but an advert stained

the glass screen,
so as to block my cocked alternative.

and she said her vows without kicking or screaming.

maturity's meaning.

now,
my child,

waiting his turn

for a carpet burn,
will ride the helta-skelta at the unfair.
surfing slippery spirals back down to earth.
he hits the turf.
bruised bum: go on my son: don't be dumb.

again-again on the merry-go-round.

no speaking when seeking nutrition from a leaking,
breast of a propper gander's teat
coz we're sitting duck pate with no real meat.
real meetings with birds? like the tweet of words?
instead i'm twittering at a screaming screen,
which i've twitched to mute.

and though i remember my commitments and am still emphatic
it's just the same old shit on the box of static.