Natalie Portman/Paul Reubens
A West Brooklyn sun...
A Manhannanite moon...
The powder is cut...
In the way that you're cut...
You in your tank-top...
It's under your arms...
It's in your flat stomach...
It's in the blood on the sheets...
And on the backs of your knees...
A Hollywood street...
An overturned bike...
The palm tree's silk kiss...
A clown limousine...
Boy Nudist magazine...
An unbuckled belt...
A fallout shelter called "Art"...
If it's kitsch, can it kill?
Just sit and be still.
The cigarette's sexed.
The houseplant is sexed.
These weapons are sexed.
Psychiatry's mimes.
Psychology's mines.
Polymorphous perverse.
The day in reverse and filth on the mind...
Everything's sexed! Everything's sexed!
Matilda on top...
Leon on top...
Cowboy Curtis on top...
Miss Yvonne on top...
Cherry on top...
Pee-Wee on top...
The children on top...
Just when you think there's a safe place to be
there's no safe place to be. Why?
Everything's sexed!
The pen and the sword! The pen in the hand!
The forest and hills! The ocean's salt brine!
The lily in bloom! The cheek and its blush!
The dog and its bite! The kitten and kat!
The Father and Son! The Mother in blue!
The knife and the Lamb! The Fish in its net!
The Meat on the plate! The kettle and steam!
The people here now! The people onscreen!
