respect the sacred, man

One must gird the loins
When approaching

Considerateness--that little
Gnashing beast. It might not

Cost much, but the way I see it,
We really know nothing about

Each other. Civilized schmivalized,
You can't fool me--I see

The crackhead lurking inside
You, those brass knuckles you say

Are a wedding band. My good thing
Might be your flayed body stuffed

Inside an eviscerated donkey,
So, my friend, intimacy is

Nothing but a thickening
Of discomfort. Do not expect

The door to be held for you.
A taxi cab will splash mud

On your brand-new pants.
Everyone but you is thinking

About how to save the mortal soul,
So respect the sacred, man.

You gotta fight for the right
To party & party for the right

To strife! Come over, let me
Prove it to you--we'll decide

The labor by chainsawing apart
One of my old ladies. & if the kids

Aren't done hand-sewing that new
Batch of shoes, we'll whip them real good.

[Alex Lemon {1978- } 'my fallow human beans' from Fancy Beasts]