black carbon paper lips  
peyote nothing to eat
lord made em sick
prayed to jesus in a backseat
after birth behemoth's armpit
the end.

the end
the end
the end is near

white flags folded in memoriam
klansmen's hoods
bartered goods for gunpowder
kinds who werent designed
for human eyes to see
cause see son
their light is blinding.

they sleep
when the sun is shining
lying in a field of drug flowers.
hugs for smokes & hot showers.

what's the headcount.

man I was done yesterday.

I'm sitting here suffocating
numb to the new world
attitude & outcome
smothered in
carnal crimson summer
not for money or love or
anything or anyone.

I'm just sitting here
burning under the moon
thinking about alpha omega
& who took it upon themselves
to leave out the in-betweens.

godless heathens.
screechy gospel
that goes on for days

straight trip no stops.