Heaven is a Whorehouse
Posted: March 14th, 2005, 1:33 am
heaven must be a whorehouse
somewhere just south of via Acuna
where the swindle witness worked tor
the authorities in a wistful spring dimension
cactus and poppies succumb to my pliers
a template of loneliness and desire
and cracked up contemplation
I sit at the feet of god every morning
heaven is created like an orgasm at dawn
or in barely conscious realms
that only remember dreams and admonitions.
my soul is a corpse rendered mild
and a palette of colors from the abrupt
to the pastel wanderings of ghost van goghs
Yes, heaven must be South of the Border
and corrupt as my instrument galactic
foul weather and solar storms.
I've got my ticket.
somewhere just south of via Acuna
where the swindle witness worked tor
the authorities in a wistful spring dimension
cactus and poppies succumb to my pliers
a template of loneliness and desire
and cracked up contemplation
I sit at the feet of god every morning
heaven is created like an orgasm at dawn
or in barely conscious realms
that only remember dreams and admonitions.
my soul is a corpse rendered mild
and a palette of colors from the abrupt
to the pastel wanderings of ghost van goghs
Yes, heaven must be South of the Border
and corrupt as my instrument galactic
foul weather and solar storms.
I've got my ticket.
to see his words still ringing true...