Oh my God
They've got angels sweatin' like Helots
Workin' their little halos to the bone combing them deserts
My figure eight knotted
Lifeline defined traffic
The way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day
One exquisite fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
To the ceiling above my bed
It's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles
Unleashed more of a clue
So when I wake up to the reigns I'll be one step ahead of you
I slide like Kodachrome
Wrote a poem for every planet
Tracked their mileage from the sun in an envelope
Licked it, stamped it
Got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
Only the earth would thank me later with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm just a bum)
Zip that waterfall around your skeleton
Tell it to boil
Loyalties, the shovel in the soil
Dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter
Nursed the blister in the sun
Strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood
Might of worked
Sip a little, litter it, love it
Without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
Might of, tugboat for the boxcutter above those ashes
Without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets
And I'm asking you
To let a captive lacerate a caption
Splash out massive
Upholster plastic classes with famine patches
I-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth
And for a second taste of pain when removing that crown of thorns
Anatropic motley clique mockado, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle masochist
Stamp the blame on following an inkling
My fire escape overlooks ghost town market place
Martyrs barter passes
Then fast themselves to the target's face
You're killin' me
They've got angels sweatin' like Helots
Workin' their little halos to the bone combing them deserts
My figure eight knotted
Lifeline defined traffic
The way my schoolin' end-less-ly defined every day
One exquisite fitted crisis rivets an octagon of red
To the ceiling above my bed
It's not a conversation piece, like public spectacles
Unleashed more of a clue
So when I wake up to the reigns I'll be one step ahead of you
I slide like Kodachrome
Wrote a poem for every planet
Tracked their mileage from the sun in an envelope
Licked it, stamped it
Got eight thank yous in the mail, but nine planets means there's one left
Only the earth would thank me later with a breath taking sunset
(man, I'm just a bum)
Zip that waterfall around your skeleton
Tell it to boil
Loyalties, the shovel in the soil
Dig it, I split my lip kissing the winter
Nursed the blister in the sun
Strung a hammock between spring and where the willows turn to blood
Might of worked
Sip a little, litter it, love it
Without big beetles trying to sell him sunflower seeds by the bucket
Might of, tugboat for the boxcutter above those ashes
Without hot air balloons floatin' their four passenger baskets
And I'm asking you
To let a captive lacerate a caption
Splash out massive
Upholster plastic classes with famine patches
I-dentify all saints linked around the fountain's warmth
And for a second taste of pain when removing that crown of thorns
Anatropic motley clique mockado, born hostile, pacifist huddled in subtle masochist
Stamp the blame on following an inkling
My fire escape overlooks ghost town market place
Martyrs barter passes
Then fast themselves to the target's face
You're killin' me
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!