'a Titan's sinking

ordinary & smaller---lazily undulating,

waves are fickle but today, along with the sun,

providing the balmy film

golden age hazy stage,

are the last of the old guard to retreat---

bow in defeat

leaving the now jagged boulders,

with the wet salty darkening sheen,

rigor mortis'd titans to sink---

once blobbish skin bags of jell-o flesh

left boneless & for dead

by a marauding, highway robbery,

horde of cannibals, with a French boujie michelin

refined palette,

only desiring the bone marrow---

celebrity making celebrity,

spoiled to neoliberal shallow snobbish by

money making money,

pickled by untold tsunamis of liquid gold

shielded and insured by post-modern templars

armed to the teeth

with stock buybacks,

tax havens, insider information---

money making money,

Louis Vuitton branded fabrics insulating

empty cherubs from the mean streets---

the identity forging concrete jungle, of which

they've been removed,

six degrees of separation

ending with a bleached ivory clad wet nurse

who once was their godhead,

then for 'a time mistakenly call'd

Mom?

now a discarded lump of rubbish,

at the bottom of a landfill mountain range,

undergoing ultra-high-pressure metamorphism,

she counts sheep for them under command,

in hopes they'll sleep

they don't.

So she's browbeat because---

they're made to use more

advanced instagram filters,

life imitating art,

as they rot into Dorian Gray,

more & more,

everyday---

sluggish Titans sinking into the beach sand,

stylized Hollywoodland

art deco crisp lines so puffed up

they're pushing out---

redrawing,

re-zoning the old money privileged elites.

Belair county club property divides---

they'll never see

opaque skin,

zip lock boiling-in-a-bag microwaved past due---

milky white sauce, in closed loop steam

swelling their plastic surgeried

plastic skin past thin

water retention PSI gauge needle buried red---

push yourself to stare---slow your breathing,

it'll all be over soon---I swear,

look past the hair & see

the purple deflated blood veins jiggling in gelatinous

gelatin mimicking it's lord as patronage---

the vassal's last fealty

owed to the Duke for the fief it lived it's entire life on,

the same plot of worked field

farm pasture it's currently blobbing in,

now liquified,

still mimicking the scene---the scene from last week

at the Belair C.C. golf course,

presidential ball room,

club house, & pool complex

where our sinking Titan saw his own demise,

all at once felt his internal muscular structure,

his entire fleet of muscle tissue walling

collectively exhaled,

giving way---letting go

like a brain dead coma patient

they're unresponsive

without pirates there's no mutiny,

now, our sinking Titan,

once a feudal lord, a Duke has lost his edge

an emasculated eunuch, a former man

now a disbanded group of senses

trapped in a swollen hypertensive motel petri dish

billboard sized neon sign advertising vacancy---

an overcooked knockwurst sausage

gelatin gelatinous jiggling

barely floating on his slow leak

YMCA blue floaty in mint green water

over-chlorinated to the point,

it would burn your lungs,

redden your eyes, but your skin, it's pinking clouds,

the wet bread cellophane skin.

latter that afternoon I became

just another rat,

jumping off a sinking ship