[this is just an intro course: a 101 on death and dismemberment.]
we were looking to get high.
delilah and i.
higher than high.
& she knew a guy who knew a guy
who got tapped by the bonesmen a semester or two back,
or so she says.
he had all the goodies; coke, nangs, and dust.
& a small yacht, for a moonlit ****.
chew this ripe ‘lil nub of apricot plucked,
it’s a gland in fact,
best consumed fresh,
just before death.
high tide, wide eyed, sped on adrenochrome.
we ****** all night, felt god, ****** god,
he said this batch was called “sisters of mercy.”
named for the nuns who farmed it
from orphan kids’ kidneys.
there are two truths.
two chakras to pulp.
one for the masses – schizos & scope –
the other for the monarchs – the princess & pope –
pineal or adrenal.
house of the moon.
vintage, house of blood.
hit the white rabbit.
the mythic psychedelic.
clot. frazzledrip. drencrom.
chromata bomb, have it pure
pick your path and pray, business or pleasure.
you know too much,
& i was dead before the end of the semester.
the genteel men about town prefer to cup the blood.
at least a tarp to preserve the rug.
“treasure your blessings, for this is the life. “
they incinerate the leftover flesh,
save for a bone or ear,
scattered in the woods at the edge of town
for a saturday morning mystery kind of kid to have found.
first son proselytized – half-past jesus –
second son convoluted – by the dark lord jeebus –
tricks &/or treats.
sacraments of cancer.
to cultivate within him that harsh old matter.
town & teachers & nurses & nuns.
all ******* beneath the desk along your thigh.
take a walk to the library.
somewhere between rites & rituals.
blood opens the gate.
adrenaline opens the dream.
hit the white rabbit.
he abducted a drifter/
or saint, by the throat
like an eggplant brought him to the threshold.
for the conduit to unlock.
the horror from his .
pulled him apart at the ribcage and sac
just to recover one sacred gland.
he was a luciferian wasp.
or a vampyr in seersucker shorts.
just a man with a taste for blood.
took a bullet to the brain either way,
a man with a hole in his head.
can i simply go on vacation from all this existential dread?
just slip away for a day or two?