I forget what bacon tastes like already
My shoes have been tied for over a year now
The wallet in my pocket came from a puddle of rain

The microphone hanging to my right
cost me one hundred and twenty five dollars
so I could fill my bedroom’s remaining
empty space

******* onto brick
concrete and yellowing grass
Three beers deep
I drag my lifeless mound
of membranes
back inside
forgetting
there's a toilet there..

Noise from these cars
hauling *** melds
together into
a concerto
for commerce

As I listen I can hear
change
fall gently, gently down
from the driver's
pockets
into the street

He said being an *******
is okay when you're a genius
later emerging as the
soul of corporate culture

As a boy
he was a mongrel dog
forcing schoolmates to kiss
statues' bare buttocks

This child grew into
the man who now
stands before
a sea of toddlers
asking him “what is
The Good?”

God is heard on fifty-thousand
fifty-thousand-Watt stations
every Sunday

He is a female albino corn snake
hissing into a microphone for fifteen
minutes and six seconds

People are raptured
When He spots a rat

Kick down every single door
Opening is for the laymen

Oracles know the secret to this thing
Listen for their voices
Hushed and desperate
Dictating the good news
From the opposite side of the keyhole
May you allow them entry?

Great though these oracles seem
Just a harsh winter wind they be

Only fools hear someone speak outside the door.

Commuters crane necks to see the car crash
Paying the wrong
Attention