Beneath the Roses,
Down stairs of bone,
the Twilight has fled,
and I am home
At the Nightclub Carnival,
Six-Six-Six Feet Under,
Morphine Martyrs dance with
******* Thunder
Lost among the Nocturnal Nymphs,
the Wildflower Cannibals eat
Innocence.
Violet Vapors
Scholars of Marijuana
Let's **** the Beatnik Babes
into a different genre.
We are New York Fairies and
their ****** Brothers.
Our hearts play on vinyl,
we're the Devil's lovers.
I've become my own Altar,
for the dead pray to None
Under Ginsberg's Grave,
The Party's just begun.
- M.R
For Allen Ginsberg. (the Beat Poets didn't ****)