Acephale (Man Thinking)

On the road
Again and
Headless

With a gun
For a brain
A mind's full

Of lack that
Wastes the
Isolate

Youth cult
With muscles
Bulging from

No where
One was on
Fire no fire

Was to speak
Of lovers
Bounced on

A bed they
Fulfill their
Deepest wills

Like they were
Our own fuck
Deeply to

The turn-
off gore true
Rubberneckers.