Sunday, March 28, 2010

Colder Than A Well Digger's Ass pt II

The 44 came after 19 and that was a long time forgotten by the stuttering bums of old 13th Street. All the clues are revealed about a life without much appeal. And when will Nashville resurrect himself? The legions of followers are waiting.

Pantheistic innovations and they got the mongrels on a spit. She tells me the pink pills make the voices go away and in the storm clouds my mind drifts. Here's the place where the faces are oh so pale and there's too much blood on the pavement to see the trail of tears. And tonight the prophecy must be fulfilled--I must be what I never wanted to be--I must now think about the times I might have had, had I never opened my mind to Blake's light.

How does one respond to a straw crowned queen? She waves me away and the horizon runs red and black. It's all just another day to die and a train leaves every half an hour.

My ambitions are phantasmal as I watch virgins sleep, feeling their thighs for the moistness left from innocent dreams. Like them, I am consumed with the unknown.

(taken from Love Is A Ghost Thing. Published by Publish America)

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