Pineapple

Then something moaned, contentedly in passion

With mile wide, dynamite, banana–face expression

Sat wholly integrated with some foul sobriety

Completely removed from his melting pornography

He talked off his hair and brown crunching leafs

Fell silently through tall, blonde Christmas trees

A huge grin appeared as he said with contempt

Stroking the flies with the holes in his head

“Have you ever thought…” and everything broke

Something always happened when Pineapple spoke

Often so vile that sought to assure

Smelled alcoholic, of red mouthed allure

Diana had fled, her persona misplaced

The slim, streaky guy fell back over, too spaced

Into six million feelings of merciless angst

Into something so soft that stole all his thanks