(to listen, click on the date)
SUNDAY PRAYER, cclxxxv
time & time again will tell
said the centipede to the centrifuge
as winter chews through doors and walls
at all our city's beloved princely
mystics in the warehouses slouching
toward beautopia on a dumpstered couch
like rocks grow on rocks, its armrests inside-out
clawed by jesus, returned as a cat,
the missing owner of the hat we're passed
from side to side to side of the story
to the brace and beam of its gory detail,
every nail, every tongue which slides
along a vein somewhere, people don't care
we just want to get off, we just want to get by
we just want to get paid and go home and get high
because it is what it is, and then you die.
but you're a birthday
deep with the dayshine
from dusk to moonbreak
the dust of keepsakes
time & time again, i am i am
das - chicago, illinois, u.s.a.