Dedicated to the current constructive political debate in the US
Why spyder phantoms Does your film so choke me On this cloudless night?
Is it the dust in my throat? The longing in my head? Or that door slowly closing behind her?
When the owls fly The fantastic colors flow behind them. Vermillions, arsenics, iridescent chromatics billowing I tremble to follow An anemic echo of their wings
All my green algaed Freudian slips sprouting in a hundred greasy Toilet bowls of the soul Grow and nurture my endless Turmoil of rotting emotions And again comes the Whirlwind
It speaks with the voices of dead cows Rotting in the summer heat Under the flat skies Saying:
"Return to me my Anger! Have I not hollowed the ****** hills And trampled the fanatic iron snakes of doom? Return again to me my anger!!
Sapphire mother I welcome your longings Your burdens Your low moan at the sunrise But there are none amoung us Who love or trust you You soft blue monster. Selah