I ride in evil’s thundering asshole
Brownfaced, I peer out at the world below,
I’m here with morning’s rot,
Around in pruning day,
In brown showers I drink red wines
And sancho panzer tank my way
Through all sorts of ravening maws
And I swing my rump
To the gasps of the magpies caws
In what can only be called
‘the dance of agony’
jiggling, jiggling
squishing through brown ballrooms
trumpets and brass
dressed up like a colonel
red uniform and billowing mustache
I swing ladylike from the arms of saints
Into the yellowing arms of demons,
And hear the faint farts of tomorrow
No comments:
Post a Comment