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

I do not know you
Old patriarch of time
Whos gossamer hands turn water
Into my wine

That I uncork with revelation
And drink with great faith
I’m baptized by pleasure
That only you can create

But the blood of your own
Is my liquid of sin
Glass after glass
Through my holy veins, it swims

Lord i’m now by the toilet
The old porcelain throne
And I'm down on my knees
But no prayer is forlorn

So I heave away
Your sacred grapes are wrathed
Deliverance of wine-soaked sadness
Confession at last
Later drunken hymns
Will arise from my bed
I’ll moan out your name
Not my lover’s
Instead

Two hand-crafted thighs
Bound together by grace
Spread open at once
By the devil’s embrace

And the same snake that tempted
Poor Adam and Eve
Slides back in his cave
Slithering with greed.