City of Dust

Just in case we where mistaken

This is dedicated to the messengers of the left coast,

To the bush league soothsayers on the right side.

I don't want to imply that there's a wrong side,

But less we forget that everybody's got to eat.

So, this goes out to all our allies and all sorts,

All those making factual or fiction that we can listen to.

And so, here it is.

Waste not, will not, what not,

What I have not got.

But I got an ink blot the shape of a blood clot,

Clogging a dead heart, beating a dead horse.

Hey maybe we need more maybes and might bes.

Possibly likely,

But I guess we'll just taste test them.

See, that's what he said to me.

Neither twine nor rope nor Holy Ghost

Could bind this man to the mortal coil

Yet with mirth and dust and processed meats

A feast lay there before him

"This is evangelical", he said

He gandered to the right and to the left

Tactile affirmations and obsessive observations

And need i even mention such impressive desecrations

I am the city of dust

I am the cold dark place

I am the half dead flesh that needs no sleep

The pregnant pause

The sound unsung

The gut cut up

The gut cut up in real time

So, you will be mine