POETRY
Night of Leviticus911
Alex Frankel

Photo by Igor Ovsyannykov on Unsplash

This is how pleasure goes marauding 

thinking twenty was happy    
thinking faces you won’t believe
wrapped in a smell of hand     

looking for a random stranger     connected!     feel free to type now
            reconnecting  
       “Hey”
    
HumanBacon21 rivets ninety-nine viewers to his cam
won’t show until he gets a hundred more
an hour goes by     maybe four 

once somebody loved my shoulder slope
my neck and head beyond a shadow
now nights are for roaming cybermiles
visions of skiers dead-faced on their lift

looking for a random stranger     connected!     type now

sometimes I’m the only one looking at me
thirty-five years of me   I mean forty-five
(I mean fifty-five) 
HumanBacon21 moans goaded by his strangers
DeafSaudi enters     “Anyone disabled?”      DeafSaudi leaves

Shawnlovegod enters says he needs a master
“just woke up in a motel
plenty of toys totally alone”
Meow-I’m-a-Cat-LOL takes a look around     
types with his pinkie finger
“Used to screw my dad, sigh, but then he moved away”

looking for a random stranger     connected!    
 
“How big?”     “Into?”     “Any French in Sydney?” 

EyesOnMe69 wants to know
“What’s the youngest you’ve ever done?”    
Scion-Of-Madness types “Someone please hurt me”     feel free
“Hij is mooi aardig mannelijk en superknap”
EdwardAddiction enters     Sucka-4-Subhumans leaves   
“Anyone need help? Any Indians?”
disconnected    connected    “schönes steifes Schwänzchen”
mice and wires     “Any smokers?”     
torsos and cams     bodies and parts
“I no like to sad one look me” 
“Sweet and verbal”     “anyone into K9?”  
“jejeje pss has de cojer bn riko wee”     “anyone need help?”  
“I am from Vienna a lovely town”
bodies by the thousands     gutted stored processed canned
bright stacks of cybermeat     

HumanBacon21 clothed
glued to Final Fantasy XV
attracts an audience of just three

dawn without a sign of day
a time of blindness colors  

the teachers of Kathmandu are nodding off

the bents from the chicken factory outside Ciudad Juarez
are nodding off

HumanBacon21 lies welded to his gamepad 

Bacon I love you      love to sketch you
sketch you running through a flower garden   


Alex M. Frankel is a writer living in Los Angeles. His first poetry book, Birth Mother Mercy (Lummox Press) was published in 2013. He's currently working on a memoir provisionally entitled A Birth Mother's Kiss and his website is www.alexmfrankel.com.