Skirt the Spurt

i believe in a godless church
all i sell is worthless merch
my movements are a mindless lurch
of a dead eyed decayed
sexless flirt
my birds sit on a baseless perch
all i feel is pleasure-less hurt
my poetry
is a wordless search
compromised
to formless dirt
to criss-cross
this loveless earth
crucified
by my souless birth