Jimmy T has no filters for games.
In fact, some would say, like
A siren or a foghorn,
He has no filters at all.
If he has a problem it
Streams out of his pores before
He can reign it in.
It gushes out in banshee vents and
Forms another him.
Most people don’t like this and
They look down at him as if
They are so pristine and
It used to bother the younger version.
He denied it and
It scoffed his insides raw.
It would tie his limbs to the cold ground and
Slice viciously at his bare skin.
It would holler from dark places.
One hot night,
When even the bats perspired and
Stayed in their caves,
He realised a fundamental truth.
They are all wankers anyway.