The Room that Bodies Lamp

Hungry ribbed men
are lured naked into a box
surfaced with stiff faucets,

see their hard reflection turn
thin like ballerinas,
and change as the smell of gas

runs like perspiration.
Their grunts spit into music;
howls up, for security,

from bodies coursing down—
the dicks of history. Locking all
to mirror the make of a porno.

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(cut up Eric's)