Midas Guts - Subtle

Another missing number in the jungle

Turned up with nothing but a loin cloth to protect your tender Penis from

what’s danger and the wildlife your human nose

Making the least of all scent going dumb

To the dynamics of clean air bare feets

Cringing across the unkempt forest floor

Minutes ago you’d been licking brass knuckles

And soaking up satellite feed beneath

Beating flash bulb blare

Being crowned this year’s champion king

Looking good bad after a beautiful thing

Big winner of the only and annual

Serious serious guts competition

Sponsored in part by the pain reliever people

And the heads of music television

Yes you and ten other tough guys slit smiles

Across your then perfectly sturdy stomachs

And spread your large intestines boldly

Out across a coated white poker table

The starter pistol barked and each contestant commenced to

Carefully comb their own eager entrails from behind

The one-way wall of mirrored eyewear

Everyone a hopeful breathing heavy

Sifting through their mortal coil with their finger tips

For the most intimidating

Lengths of well sculpted and primetime stomach links

Every so often in the name of health an executioner

Capped usher struts about the gut covered table

Misting everyone’s exposed and heaving organs

With a modified and fancy water pistol

All in the all in the name of health

As always this years celebrity judges

Are only of the most incredible persuasion

Charles Bronson’s angry and gay only daughter

Ice Cube back from when he was hard

And a framed 8×10 of Joe Namath’s kneecaps

And because you won they stitch up your open abdomen first

Gave you a nice rambo knife and some choice cigarettes

Then cut you loose in the Ozarks

The question being not if but when

You will kill for your next meal

And besides after all you’d never gone missing before

(Never gone missing before)

And besides after all you’d never gone missing before

(Never gone missing before)

And besides after all you’d never gone missing before

(Never gone missing before)

And besides after all you’d never gone missing before

(Never gone missing before)

Pop master

(Drop the guts)

Pop master

(Drop the guts)

Pop master

(Drop the guts)

In one months time they anticipate your turning up

On the lap of the Lincoln memorial

Wearing the stripped and cured

Flesh of yet another white rapper

Lovers and mothers the last thing on your mind

Raw and reborn in the kill

As the red carpet goes wild

The vice magazine people serving up

A hard bucket of most happening blood

Feeding a spit roast pig in your honor

Kissing the wind

Calling you boss

Phantom hearts clinking half empty

In the leftover and once humored

Still

Still arrogant air