I always have this feeling.
That there are these following
Eyes always on my back
Or on the top of my head
Or in my black blood. . .
Do you know what I mean?
It is in a sense, comforting?
And completely sickening all at
Once and I have nothing left
To speak at all.

But one time, sometime ago
I felt a strange relief.
No more eyes on the back
Of my head or your head on my
Spiny back; crooked teeth
Straightened back out
By the cold streets
Of those bizarre,
              ******,
and draining
cities.

Saint Pete, Oh Saint Peter!
Where are you now?
Your smooth shadiness and weird wilderness
Covered up my sins but only for a little bit
A moment in a movement inward
Inside my lungs, I breathe you in
I’m going outside and out of my mind
They forgive me for my sins. . .
But, I still love you.

Saint Augustine, Saint Augustine!
I will be back to you
I will let your silly green water
Take me in and bring me home
I’ve been too far gone for far too long
Sliding around the other stars in this galaxy
Seeing the inside of some strange girls
In the complete capture of a crutch coma
I let you go. . .
But, I still love you.

I thank you both,
(True Gentlemen)
(Wicked Women)
For your hands

They were there
(For Strength)
(For Shade)
To cover the curse

Of these
(Dying)
(Lying)
Eyes