Back in my early twenties,
full of hormones, along with the hormones
I was ingesting from meat, since I was clueless to all this meat industry corruption at the time
and all the other crap put in sodas and chips
and leeching from plastic bottles, deliberately or not, while driving along the streets of Long Beach in my truck,
bored, feeling the madness
of an afternoon, caged, cheated somehow,
watching the buildings pass
and imagining the streetlights
bending down like giant fingernails poking my skin, feeling like a lab rat in a laboratory, once in a maddening while,
I’d feel a sick side of me begin to possess my soul
as Mr. Hyde would smirk
and little invisible horns would grow
out of my skull and my skin would become soft
and my eyes black
and little breasts would form under my T-shirt
and my mind was no longer controlled by free will
but by the sickness of childhood trauma
and grief and family dysfunction;
and I’d look about me
and pick a car near my car; and if that car
had a woman driving it,
a young, good-looking woman, no doubt,
I’d immediately sport a boner
as if that girl was chosen
to be the girl I had suddenly transformed
into. I wasn’t turned on from the girl,
although I was easily turned on by women,
but from this perverse game in my head.
Somehow, by catching the eyes of that girl,
and imaging myself her behind the wheel,
I was able to fuck myself
and my parents or have the parents fuck me.
I’m not really sure as it was all unconscious
and demon-like when it happened
without any rational thought involved.

I was like the stone-ghoul
unearthed in the very beginning
of the movie The Excorcist
with wings and an erection.

Sometimes, bored at home and lonely
I’d make a prank call
to a woman’s clothing shop
in a female voice
and then jerk off afterwards—the devil child
inside relishing the idea
that he’d tricked the female employee
into thinking I had a vagina
instead of a dick.

Same concept here, except this childish
perverted game in the car
was done while driving
through the wasteland
of the corporate cage,
through the asphalt circus tent—
my face
painted with clown make up
as tattooed tears
rolled down
the sides
of my cheeks.