Man cave

[Keith]

My primal freak
wants all the toys,
drags his knuckles
as I take things in.

mice click click, feeding on my
urges, wims and wants,
staring into Amazon's fire
gadgets line the walls,
amps buzz in the shadows.

I murder meat by fridge light,
dribble beer
on the strands of my beard,
plat hair, on my back.
Pick thing
that should stay unpicked.

Then she lures me out, all scented
and streched nyloned,
uses my primeval
before the club hits my head
and I wake up decorating,
again.