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Description
The world is turning their lights out with their lips
To the moon and their own wavy sun ray vision.
It makes me think in the pit of my yearning stomach
Of apocalypse, tic, toc, tic, toc,
The end of the world comes before the end

(When the world blows up we won\'t know it
But it\'s the fact we knew and knew all along
That it was going to blow up)

At the hand of the three sisters or the one mans,
Or none but their own, or the forces of earths
Not of their own, or of their own disobedience
From father’s punishment,
After Sodom and Gomorrah,
Sodomy’s illegal in America
And golden copulations last only long enough
To come
For sin and drunken orgies to repent.

Sleep is boring.
The illusion of symmetry is as dizzying as perfect symmetry.
Right before I decided to sleep I forgot I made that decision.
When you roll out of bed you forget what’s happened
Because that is what has happened.
That you won’t have woken up.
It’s not fair.

Bring your bread and wine and fish for the blessing
Brings fat round drops of water splashing against hides
Of trees who can’t think and haven’t had an option
Who grow and resist, why? They yield natural
Sweeter and less vile smaller thoughts who don’t
Think heaven, think life, and make best of sacrifices
Of others not themselves
And starve out, close out, forget about, or out sell
Them for themselves and leave saplings
Alone by themselves
And drain them of the sweet soils and seasons waters,
And from the sun block them out.

When their petrified hide becomes rock
And saplings pique amber
The fronts and backs of men be beat against
Rocks like rocks make man into salt
On the ocean cliffs ledges made of sand.
The flash of his demand, or no one’s demand,
The fiery rock firing for sea
With the greatest rapids and drowning wave
Brings glass beaches and seaside edges
And great rains purged of salt and man who
Lay at the ocean’s end, the bottom of the earth.
They’ve taken from Adam’s life creating finger
And from the salt finger of a Lot’s wife taken from the body:
The epiphany of birth is easier taken away than it is to keep it.
Theirs is the sand and salt in the abysses, they’re all lost.

Description
The world is turning their lights out with their lips
To the moon and their own wavy sun ray vision.
It makes me think in the pit of my yearning stomach
Of apocalypse, tic, toc, tic, toc,
The end of the world comes before the end

(When the world blows up we won\'t know it
But it\'s the fact we knew and knew all along
That it was going to blow up)

At the hand of the three sisters or the one mans,
Or none but their own, or the forces of earths
Not of their own, or of their own disobedience
From father’s punishment,
After Sodom and Gomorrah,
Sodomy’s illegal in America
And golden copulations last only long enough
To come
For sin and drunken orgies to repent.

Sleep is boring.
The illusion of symmetry is as dizzying as perfect symmetry.
Right before I decided to sleep I forgot I made that decision.
When you roll out of bed you forget what’s happened
Because that is what has happened.
That you won’t have woken up.
It’s not fair.

Bring your bread and wine and fish for the blessing
Brings fat round drops of water splashing against hides
Of trees who can’t think and haven’t had an option
Who grow and resist, why? They yield natural
Sweeter and less vile smaller thoughts who don’t
Think heaven, think life, and make best of sacrifices
Of others not themselves
And starve out, close out, forget about, or out sell
Them for themselves and leave saplings
Alone by themselves
And drain them of the sweet soils and seasons waters,
And from the sun block them out.

When their petrified hide becomes rock
And saplings pique amber
The fronts and backs of men be beat against
Rocks like rocks make man into salt
On the ocean cliffs ledges made of sand.
The flash of his demand, or no one’s demand,
The fiery rock firing for sea
With the greatest rapids and drowning wave
Brings glass beaches and seaside edges
And great rains purged of salt and man who
Lay at the ocean’s end, the bottom of the earth.
They’ve taken from Adam’s life creating finger
And from the salt finger of a Lot’s wife taken from the body:
The epiphany of birth is easier taken away than it is to keep it.
Theirs is the sand and salt in the abysses, they’re all lost.