523 sibley street sibling
rivalry in suits and
(yes reverend)
nails that staple us to our eternity
city mightily resting upon
its haunches devouring
the young and the restless night
the suit coat screams very loudly
trying to scare off the city
force it into submission into
an admission of its guilt
but the city doesn't give a drooling
care as it lathers over another
morsel
ebon moon draws into its gaze the vision of struggle
and wrinkles its hobgoblin face into a grin
there is death
death in satin pumps
death in tie
death in mini skirt
death while fundamental
reproductions of last
century's evangelists
exercise two and a half foot arms
inside...
inside the protestant reformation
fills its belly with expensive
half-
baked Mexican food and gripes
about the church split back home.
we try
to pay our water bill with spare change
and get
mr. armstong to take out our trash
(the spaceman comes on thursday)
but there'll
be nothing left to eat nothing
left
to drink no there'll be nothing left
no babies, no atmosphere, no northern ireland(angerland,
wrathland,
ghostland), no elbow room(elbows?), no body,
nothing,
nobody.
then shall we
take the afternoon off and nothing too seriously?
...
copywrite 2001 cf.escue, all rights reserved