Wednesday, February 3, 2010

your god.

your "god" resides in shopping malls at christmastime.
giving out candy canes and collecting money,
(a portion of) which goes to a charity, and telling
the children to be good for Santa.
afterwards passing by a freezing man burning a book to stay warm.
thank jesus it wasn't the bible
and give it no other thought.

your "god" sits within his church or temple,
whichever is "the one,"
next to the girls who sit through an afternoon mass,
waiting for the alter boys to kiss them and sneak them
"the blood of christ."
with men who dominate their wives while their many children watch,
and the oldest heats up pasta,
so that her mother may ice her eye with their sunday steak.

your "god" lives within capitalism
and christian barbeques
and secret abortions for trophy wives
in the back of a shed where people go to take
(hits of marajuana)
away another
little
problem.

bowing to your "god"?
no, thank you.
i will instead battle the
unknown.
and leave you with
your pretty white smiles,
all pearly white lies.

"swollen-foot"

the oracle told me, told me
that you were going to fuck your mother.
you mother lover, lover, lover, love.
the oh-rih-gin-al.
mother lover.

boys, crazy boys, boys.
boys fighting with sticks,
boys fighting with swords,
boys fighting; silly boys,
boys fighting; dead.

the oracle confided in me
that you were going to walk like a pidgeon.
you fucking cripple, cripple, cripple, oh.
ankles, oh, oh.

boys, crazy boys, boys.
boys fighting with sticks,
boys fighting with swords,
boys fighting; silly boys,
boys fighting; dead.


the oracle confessed to me
that it knew about your fucked little family.
dys-func-tion-ohl!-ohl!-ohl!-oh!
dysfunction-ah-ah-oh-luh.

boys, crazy boys, boys.
boys fighting with sticks,
boys fighting with swords,
boys fighting; silly boys,
boys fighting; dead.


the oracle, the oracle, the oracle-oh-oh.
what a genius.
blind as a white man.
the oracle.

boys, crazy boys, boys.
boys fighting with sticks,
boys fighting with swords,
boys fighting; silly boys,
boys fighting; dead.


the oracle told me, told me.
that you were going to love your mother.
you mother fucker, fucker, fucker, fuck.
you son,
you son of a gun.