Infinite Gary

Knowing him from work
He was the pale, serious one.
Gary. Bland,
A management skull
In grey wafer suit.
The champion
Of protocol,
A self brainwashed recruit.
A silky tie, a buggy eye,
A grovel every morning.
Stabbed keyboard with his fingers
Like some infernal organ
Held the stapler like a riot gun,
Hid the post-its when you required one,
And cc’d the boss in every email
He ever sent to anyone.
And to us, that was Gary.

A cock,
Yes.

But knowing him from work,
Wasn’t knowing him at all.

And secretly, online,
Gary had found this tasty little hole
A blank seed of freedom
Where he could ease, poke about, with
Grubby thumbnails,
Sweaty tales of one night stands
And match.com snail trails
The secret photos of the girls he’d had
Under that hollow lizard glare
When the suit had come off,
They were posted, they were there
Humming in space, each drunk smudgy little face
Squelching, shamed and placed around him,

So that night when I found him
I crawled through the saliva
I saw the pile of faces blurred out
The jelly of his member,
The point of his chin.
The lingerie grout,
The loss chiselled in
In the office he was nothing, but
He’d grown from within and
Within he was infinite,
He was thunder, sweat
A monsoon of wank
And I scrolled throughout him
Till the colour bled to blank,
I saw at least three female bodies
From within my company's senior ranks

The next day by the Copier,
I saw Gary again,
Except Gary
Wasn’t Gary
Anymore,
He wore the suit alright
And that polished skull
Balanced just well enough
But I knew, I suppose
And that’s what allowed me
To see his head
Finally
Explode .
The buggy eye that popped,
The tie that rippled, and flowed
Like ribbons against it’s hollow prisonlike abode
And as his chest struck the carpet
A rancid butterfly departed
Thick black tar that farted across the floor
As it grew
And I’d have jumped, I am sure
If there wasn’t something beautiful about it
The squelch of infinity clinging, like a newborn on my shoe.