The fiscal year is coming to an end so... and Ground (no. 2) (P#5)

The fiscal year is coming to an end so... 
It’s ground hog day 
Rise and shine 
Mary guides your way 
Around the curfuffle 
Created by a vacuum 
Of domestic boom

Piercing ray
Illuminating the misty nicotine spray
Dialing out a photon code
Asking for someone to save my soul 

Plaque already accumulating 
Before scrubbed by Oral-Bs blistering speed
Reaching down 
In search of underwear
That won’t betray my respectability
In front of the ScotRail landing committee 

Laptop, keys and professional regalia 
All lobbed 
With haphazard abandon 
Into jet black storage container 

Better call an Uber 
This lethargy stricken toad 
Cannot get his hide out the hold 
Without the social pressure 
Of a declining number 

Another four days 
In a pen 
Being berated by little old men 
Solpadol savages
and caustic gremlins who hide in the corners
Of the Highlands tortured flora 

Thinking back to halycon days
Where a job was a distant memory 
and bi-weekly commune with an employment adviser 
Reminded me I needed to try harder 

Credit card debt
Declining self-respect 
All run contrary 
To my inclining financial sanctuary 

But I’ll beat it
I’ll do it 
So my mother can smile at the memory 
Of a son with a hell of a lot of money 

GROUND
By god’s design
My mind 
A pickled, riddled bygone fissure
A crater
Pictured
On an app called “Grindr”

But the news is out 
A faggot about 
Intrepid explorer
Of what it means to be a whorer 

A lattice of face, waist, anus
Cock further than the eye can see
Scrolling through proximity 
Evaluating the composition of their bodies
Like some kinda fucked up WALL-E
Whose programming aims for the destruction 
Of IV ME

Hundreds of messages sent and received 
Lies a little piece of me 
PrEP, Masc for Masc, Trans only 
All the backdrop of my tragedy 
Where something’s amiss
A kiss
Discourse
Bliss at nearness

But I can’t help it 
My loins are a penance
A storm of such magnitude 
That I deride and decry 
The tenderness inside 

It’s teratogenic
Wearing away my composite 
An oxide on my hide 
Flaying my ability to provide a resolution 
To years and years of dissolution 

But then again, 
Why so sad?  
This is the destiny I chose 
Your bodies a temple 
Mines a city
Littered upon 
With canals and crevices 
Conductors 
Running trains on it’s orifices

Going global is always an option 
You, I, they, them 
All on the menu 
From Peru to China
A no-holds barred bonanza 
The MET office up in arms 
At it’s newest evaluation 
Globo-homo is a greater threat
Than the heating of the Great Steppe 
The brevity of potential buggery
Held within this one body 
Makes Sodom and Gomorrah look like a little tea party

I’m talking planetary shit 
The Gaia Hypothesis 
Where equilibria is formed
By interaction between earth and sea 
It appeals to me 
Because no matter how grounded I could become 
My lurid depths will always pull me back to zero sum 

But I’ve began to rethink my edifice 
Enacting my own TED talk 
About the ontological significance
Of being a fleshlite 
With arms and legs

Maybe going to a therapist 
Would have been better than a supposed cunning linguist 
Pound for pound 
The tongue may be the most powerful muscle in the body
But it’s currency is inflationary
Illusory 
When compared to the solidity 
of a body next to me