Boring Routine

Facing unauthorized copulation my head is bagged never really ready one hole only to breath from.... Silent silent silent except for the dry crackling of the bag...the head boards sound like dry broken ribs....pleurisy's groan for wasting good musics organ is a wanted forgotten pipe unionized yet course. It is religion needing always new bread utterly made fresh when saved wretched waist is from some wandering soul to sing through a whistled tooth catching lisp this familiarity drags me always into the mirrors mouth checking for a fresh twist on a redundantly boring lifeless routine made soundlessly familiar...