No wonder we hate him.
His mind
(like all minds)
did something unspeakable
to our infinitely younger
than underage
eyes.
Turning
Innocent pink sunrises
into
backstabbing honeypots.
Sunsets into sugar daddies
with a creepy command
to hold some hand
before we punish by posting
to Instagram.
Jeffery’s most unforgivable act:
reminding us
how we pedo ourselves:
look the other way,
as starry-eyed silence
is mounted
over and over, by a potbellied queue.
Suddenly, we see who we’ve become:
Head-o-philes
pounding on the sex-doll of personhood,
crazy for a gaze
untouched
by the meaningless suspense
of sunrise,
the hollow victory
of sunset
a prison break state
that might help us escape
the rusty bookends
of our aging, archetypal
Auschwitz.
