A squint? No way!
’cause the peeper arcs de-temblored. . .
My pan[1] of stone.
Moving from my chinbone to my feet below,
But my flesh won’t fall where spike-fed gouts do go.
I am botoxed,
I can’t stop smiling.

My skin crawl?
It’s fortified. . .deep spiking.
The puncture penetrates.
I have a needle friendship;
Flesh stick can cause pain—
Nix laughter. . .as if stuffed with Lidocaine.
I am botoxed,
I’m frozen-smiling.

I’m on this drug
That’s derm-merged by girlie [man] whore.[2]
It’s keeping visage tremble-free.
Fine poke, then surge from plunger; the needle’s been applied;
It’s a sunk-in dunk that pumps the junk inside.
I am botoxed,
My pan is smiling.

I have ice looks,
Post the pokery that that bo-rects[3] me.
I am shielded. . .skin like armor.
Hide of the entombed, facially I’m groomed—
Don’t touch me ’cause the toughness is eerie.
I am botoxed,
On CSPAN smiling.

Post-botox. . .feel no pain
Frozen smile, nonblinking eye.


1 face
2 i.e., Arnold Schwarzenegger
3 rectifies