Poem

Slowly, gently, vicious
the city so distant now
bruised in screams
by the severed moonlight
pale vampires for films
waltzing amongst
the cinderella operas

Such infidels
burning to the streets
by taxi cabs & messiahs
waiting for the boodletting
flood
getting head in the backseats
with the darlings

I recall puking when the Velvet king walked by
such an Egyptian eye
he wore tattered on his sleeve
red
& he never saw the guise
or the guys
sleeping with his Dogstar queen

Dandelions have the sparks of black roses;
silence in the halfway in-betweens
where all the kurt cobains go
w/ rotting teeth
to get away from their Love-Hole

So who was waiting anyway?
The coincidence the irony
soaked by venemous nature
we all have the need to bleed
(take showers w/ bullets in our mouths)

No sun stays in my garden,
I must wash my vodka down
w/ bourbon, which starts out
as a kiss.